y^/»/^
 
 MEKEY ENGLAND.
 
 MERRY EI^OLAl^D: 
 
 ou. 
 
 NOBLES AND SERFS. 
 
 BT 
 
 WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTH, 
 
 AUTHOR OP 
 "the tower of LONDON," " BOSCOBEL," ETC. 
 
 " In order that gentlemen and others may take example and correct wicked 
 rebels, I will most amply detail how this business was conducted." 
 
 Feoissabt. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 TINSLEY BROTHERS, 8, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND. 
 
 1874. 
 
 [_Bi^ht of Trantlation reserved iy the Author.}
 
 lONDON: 
 
 6ATILL, EDWABCS AHD CO., PKINIEBS, CHAITDOS STEEET, 
 
 COVBNI GABDEJf.
 
 o 
 
 CO 
 
 z: 
 
 O 
 
 id 
 
 CO 
 
 II 
 
 ^ 
 
 2> 
 c 
 
 
 TO 
 
 EALPH FAWSETT AINSWOETH, M.D. 
 
 r.R.C.P.E., F.L.S., 
 
 ETC. ETC. 
 
 NOW fulfil a promise, long ago 
 made to myself, to dedicate a 
 book to you. 
 Accept from me, therefore, this Story of 
 the Conspiracy and Insurrection of the Seris 
 in 13 SI — an outbreak as remarkable for 
 the rapidity of its progress, as for its sudden 
 and complete suppression. 
 
 Had the Eebellion been successful, in the 
 opinion of Froissart, who, as a contemporary, 
 Avas well able to judge, the nobles and
 
 VI DEDICATION. 
 
 gentlemen of England would have entirely 
 disappeared. 
 
 It is quite certain that the citizens of 
 London were favourably disposed to the 
 insurgents, and willing to aid them. 
 " They are our friends," they said to the 
 Lord Mayor, " and what they are doing is 
 for our fTood." But the hour of freedom 
 was not come for the villeins. Another 
 century of servitude had to be borne. 
 Quoth old Thomas of Walsingham, ad- 
 dressing the serfs on the unsuccessful revolt, 
 " Villeins you w^ere, and still are, and in 
 bondage ye shall remain." Bustici quidem 
 fuistis, et estis, d in hondagio ijermanehitis. 
 
 All the terms granted to the rebellious 
 serfs by Eichard II. in his hour of peril 
 were revoked, and his grants of pardon and 
 enfranchisement broken and annulled.
 
 DEDICATION. Vll 
 
 When the young king asked the nobles 
 if they wouhl sign charts of freedom for the 
 serfs, they exclaimed indignantly, " Heaven 
 forbid ! Eather than sign such charts, we 
 would all perish in a single day ! Better 
 lose life than our heritages 1" 
 
 Froissart, Thomas of Walsingham, 
 Henry Knyghton, Grafton, Plolinshed, and 
 Stow have fui-nished the materials of this 
 Tale, which pretends to be little more than 
 a picturesque chronicle. 
 
 Such as it is, I offer it to you, in remem- 
 brance of past days ! 
 
 Ere saying adieu, let me congratulate 
 you on your recent floricultural triumph. 
 
 Several years' patience, only to be endured 
 by an enthusiast, have been rewarded by 
 the production of a perfectly new, and ex- 
 quisitely beautiful hybrid orchid, described
 
 Vlll DEDICATION. 
 
 as a " large, lovely white flower of great 
 elegance of form, and with plum-coloured 
 lip," and which justly merits the name 
 conferred upon it of Dendrobiuui Ainsicortliii. 
 Compared with this, what is a literar}' 
 success ! 
 
 Your affectionate Cousin, 
 
 AY. IIakrison Ainsworth. 
 
 Little Eocklet, Hukstpiebpoist. 

 
 CONTENTS 
 
 THE FIUST VOLUME. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 I. THE SMITH, THE FRIAR, AKD THE OUTLAW 3 
 
 II. EDITHA 20 
 
 ni. OF THE INTERVIEW ON DARTFORD BRENT . 34 
 
 IV. HOW THE PREN'CESS OF WALES VISITED THE 
 
 PRIORESS OF ST. MARY AND ST. MARGARET 50 
 
 V. THE PRIORESS OF ST. MART ANT) ST. MAR- 
 GARET, DARTFORD 59 
 
 VI. OF THE COUNSEL GIVEN BY THE LADY ISABEL 
 
 TO THE PRINCESS G4 
 
 VII. THE LAPIS LAZULI TABLET 73 
 
 VIII. OF THE ROUGH RESPONSE MADE TO SIR JOHN 
 
 HOLLAND BY THE SMITH 81 
 
 IX. ST. edmond's chapel 92 
 
 X. THE LOMBARD MERCHANT 95 
 
 XI. THE TAX-COLLECTOR 104 
 
 XII. MARK CLEAVER, ELI AS LIRIPU'E, AND JOS- 
 BERT GKOUTHEAD 109 
 
 XIIL GEOFFREY CHAUCER 114 
 
 XIV. SEDITIOUS TALK BENEATH THE OAK . . .120 
 
 XV. WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CHAUCER AND EDITHA 135
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 XVI. THE EREMITE 141 
 
 XVII. MYSTERIOUS TRAVELLERS ARRIVE AT THE 
 
 HOSTEL 145 
 
 XVin. THE SMITH AT THE SMITHY 153 
 
 XIX. THE HERMITAGE 158 
 
 XX. SHOWING WHO SENT THE CASKET . . .165 
 XXI. THE RESCUE 170 
 
 XXII. EDITHA DISTRUSTS HER DELIVERER . . .174 
 
 XXIII. A SUDDEN QUARREL 178 
 
 XXIV. MESSER BENEDETTO IS CAPTURED BY THE 
 
 ROBBERS 186 
 
 XXV. THE HOUR ATPROACHES 191 
 
 XXVI. THE SIGNAL 197 
 
 XXVII. THE INSURGENTS MARCH OUT OF DARTFORD 203 
 
 XXVIII. THE MARCH TO ROCHESTER 211 
 
 XXIX. FROM ROCHESTER TO HARBLEDOWN . . .218 
 
 XXX. THE REBEL CHIEFS HOLD A CONP'ERENCE WITH 
 
 THE PRINCESS 225 
 
 XXXI. SIR JOHN HOLLAND AND HIS COMPANIONS 
 
 TAKE REFUGE IN THE ARCHBISHOP's PALACE 233 
 
 XXXII. FRIAR NOSROCK AND THE BAN-DOGS . . . 240 
 
 -XXXIII. THE HOSTEL IN MERCERY LANE .... 246 
 
 XXXIV. THE SIEGE OF THE ARCHBISHOP's PALACE . 254
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE INSUEEECTION. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 MEKRY ENGLAND; 
 
 OB, 
 
 NOBLES AND SEEFS. 
 
 I. 
 
 THE SMITH, THE FRIAR, AND THE OUTLAW. 
 
 T the pleasant village of Dartford, 
 in Kent, in 1381, and in the fifth 
 of Eichard II., there dwelt a smith 
 named Wat Tyler. 
 
 Somewhat above the middle height, and 
 very powerfully built, he had a broad, manly 
 visage, characterized by a stern expression, 
 and his deep-set eyes possessed a latent fire 
 very easily kindled. His dark locks were 
 clipped close to his head, so as to reveal a 
 
 1—2
 
 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 massive brow, but his beard was bushy and 
 overgrown. 
 
 The smith's ordinary apparel was well 
 calculated to display his stalwart frame, and 
 consisted of a coarse, brown serge tunic, 
 with skirts reaching below the girdle, long 
 russet hose, and sandals fastened with 
 thongs. 
 
 When he went forth he put on a hood 
 that covered his head, neck, and shoulders, 
 and only left the face visible. Attached to 
 his girdle were a pouch and a dagger, the 
 latter being of his own manufacture. 
 
 It was a sight to see the lusty smith in 
 his leather apron, with his brawny arms 
 bared to the shoulders, making the sparks 
 fly as he beat the glowing iron on the anvil. 
 When surrounded by his men, most of whom 
 were built on his own robust model, he 
 looked like Vulcan amid the Cyclops. 
 
 Wat Tyler was in the prime of manhood,
 
 THE INSURRECTION, 
 
 not being more than forty. He was mar- 
 ried, and had one child, a daughter, whom 
 he loved as the apple of his eye. Rough 
 with all others, he was ever gentle with her. 
 
 He had not always been a smith. In his 
 younger days he was an archer, and drew as 
 strong a bow as a Sherwood forester. A 
 vassal of Sir Eustace de Yalletort, he formed 
 part of the train of that noble knight, and 
 accompanied his lord to the wars in France 
 and Bretagne. In some rude encounters 
 with the enemy, he had the good fortune to 
 attract the ^notice both of the Black Prince 
 and the Duke of Lancaster. Severely 
 wounded at the siege of Eennes, he was left 
 for dead, but recovered, and eventually re- 
 turned with Sir Eustace to England. 
 
 At this period all the peasants were serfs, 
 being unable to abandon the small portion 
 of land which they cultivated, or quit the 
 service of their lords, who could compel
 
 6 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 them to follow them to the wars, or sell 
 them with their habitations, their cattle, 
 their implements of labour, and their fami- 
 lies. In short, the villeins, as they were 
 termed, were in the same wretched state of 
 bondage that they had been after the Con- 
 quest ; freedom being rarely granted save on 
 payment of a heavy fine. 
 
 When Wat Tyler went to the wars he 
 was a bondman, but on his return, in con- 
 sideration of his good service, he was eman- 
 cipated by his lord, and enabled to establish 
 himself as a smith at his native village of 
 Dartford. Being skilful at his work, he 
 found plenty of employment; and it was 
 said that he could make a stronger breast- 
 plate and a better skull-cap than any 
 armourer in Kent. 
 
 But though he had little reason to com- 
 plain, Wat was a discontented man. Of 
 late he had become more sullen than hereto-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 
 
 fore, and seemed brooding over some secret 
 wrong. Could we penetrate the inmost 
 recesses of his breast, we should find it 
 occupied by fierce and turbulent thoughts, 
 by intense hatred of the noble and the rich, 
 by a burning desire of vengeance upon the 
 oppressors of the people, and by a fixed 
 determination to divide all property among 
 the lower classes, should the great revolt 
 of the commonalty, which he felt assured 
 would speedily take place, be crowned with 
 success. 
 
 Ever since the accession of Eichard II. 
 to the throne, in 1377, strong symptoms 
 of popular agitation had been manifest, 
 though they had been disregarded by the 
 nobles, who felt secure of their power ; but 
 now the storm that had so long been brew- 
 ing seemed likely to burst, and with extra- 
 ordinary fury. 
 
 The youthful monarch, who was now in
 
 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 liis sixteenth, year, was governed by his 
 uncles, the Duke of Lancaster and the Earls 
 of Cambridge and Buckingham, subse- 
 quently created Dukes of Cambridge and 
 Gloucester, and their exactions and severity 
 had exasperated the people almost beyond 
 endurance. 
 
 Moreover, Eichard had several rapacious 
 favourites, the chief among them being 
 his two half-brothers, the Earl of Kent 
 and Sir John Holland, the Earls of 
 Salisbury, Warwick, and Suffolk, and Sir 
 Eichai'd le Scrope, steward of the house- 
 hold ; and these helped to drain the royal 
 exchequer, which needed constant reple- 
 nishment. 
 
 Added to all, in consequence of the conti- 
 nual and fruitless wars with France, the 
 expenses of the nobles and knights, who 
 vied with each other in the number and 
 splendour of their trains, were excessive.
 
 . THE INSURKECTION. 9 
 
 and could only be maintained by repeated 
 exactions from the serfs. 
 
 At length the miserable peasants deter- 
 mined to throw off the 3'oke under which 
 they laboured. Secret meetings took place 
 among them in several parts of Kent and 
 Essex, and a great league of the commons 
 was formed for the purpose of compelling 
 the nobles, knights, and gentlemen to re- 
 nounce the privileges they had so shame- 
 fully abused, 
 
 A mj'sterious mode of communication was 
 devised, b}^ means of which the members of 
 the association could correspond witli each 
 other without danger of disco ver3\ 
 
 The chief contriver of this extensive and 
 dangerous conspirac}^ was Wat Tyler, who 
 aspired to be the leader of the insurrection, 
 and, from his daring and resolute character, 
 he seemed well fitted for the post. 
 
 One of \Yat Tyler's confederates in the re-
 
 10 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 volutionary scheme, and who lent the sedi- 
 tious smith great aid, was a Franciscan friar, 
 named John Ball, a professed disciple of the 
 great religious reformer, John Wycliffe, whose 
 doctrines were then extremely popular. 
 
 Clad in his grey gown, and girded with a 
 cord, the barefooted friar went from village 
 to village throughout Kent, preaching 
 equahty, the necessity of a general partition 
 of property, and the abolition of the ecclesi- 
 astical hierarchy. 
 
 " My good friends," he said to the peasants 
 who collected to hear him, " things cannot 
 go on well in England, nor ever will, until 
 everything shall be in common ; when there 
 shall neither be vassal nor lord, and all dis- 
 tinctions levelled ; when the lords shall be 
 no more masters than ourselves. How ill 
 have they used us ! and for what reason do 
 they hold us in bondage ? Are we not all 
 descended from the same parents, Adam and
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 11 
 
 Eve ? And what can they show, and what 
 reason give, why they should be more the 
 masters than we ourselves ? They are 
 clothed in velvets and rich stuffs, ornamented 
 with ermine and other furs, while we are 
 forced to wear poor cloth. They have wines, 
 spices, and fine bread, when we have only 
 rye, and water to drink. We are called 
 slaves, and if we do not perform our services 
 we are beaten. Let us go to the King, who 
 is young, and remonstrate with him on our 
 servitude, telling him we must have it other- 
 wise, or we shall find a remedy for it our- 
 selves." 
 
 Inilammatory preaching like this, ad- 
 dressed to an ignorant peasantry, half- 
 maddened by the cruelty and injustice with 
 which they were treated, could not fail to 
 produce the effect intended. 
 
 All who listened to the factious monk re- 
 solved to sliake off their chains, and be free.
 
 12 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Not content with haranguing the peasants, 
 John Ball sent a letter secretly to the head 
 man in each village, couched in the follow- 
 ing terms : — 
 
 " John Ball greets you well ; 
 Soon you'll hear the signal bell. 
 When it sounds, rise suddenly : 
 And, as you would freemen be, 
 Hold together steadfastly, 
 In brotherhood and unity. 
 Nothing fear. 
 The end is near — 
 The end you hope foi* — Liberty." 
 
 John Ball's proceedings, not being con- 
 ducted with sufficient caution, came to the 
 knowledge of the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 who caused him to be arrested. 
 
 The Archbishop looked upon him as a 
 half-crazed enthusiast, affected by the heresies 
 of Wycliffe, but had no idea of the mischief 
 he was doing, or he would have put him to 
 death. As it was he imprisoned him in the 
 barbacan of the old castle of Canterbury,
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 13 
 
 destroyed by Louis of France in the time of 
 King John. 
 
 Another important member of the league, 
 but of a very different stamp from the friar, 
 was an outlaw and captain of robbers, whose 
 real name was Guibald le Mauduit, though 
 he had assumed the appellation of Jack 
 Straw. 
 
 Having been guilty of a trespass on a 
 royal forest in the reign of Edward III. — in 
 other words, of killing deer, a heinous offence 
 in those days, and punishable with death — 
 Guibald fled to avoid the consequences of 
 his act, and, since he could not be captured, 
 he was outlawed, and a price set on his 
 head. 
 
 He was soon joined by several marauders, 
 fugitives from justice like himself; and, 
 being superior to the rest of his lawless 
 companions, was chosen as their leader ; and 
 a ver}'- determined leader he proved, and
 
 14 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 enforced the strictest obedience to liis 
 comraands. 
 
 Jack Straw and his band speedily became 
 the terror of all travellers in Kent ; and, to 
 avoid being plundered, the numerous 
 pilgrims to the shrine of St. Thomas a 
 Becket, at Canterbury, were obhged to be 
 guarded by an escort. 
 
 But the robber-chief modelled his conduct 
 on that of another renowned outlaw, Eobin 
 Hood ; and while he despoiled the rich with- 
 out scruple, he gave very liberally to the 
 poor. Hence he had always spies to tell him 
 of the approach of a party of travellers, or to 
 warn him of danger ; and though his retreat 
 was well known, it was never discovered by 
 the officers of justice. 
 
 For seven years Jack Straw had now been 
 master of the road between Blackheath and 
 Canterbury, and made every traveller he 
 could lay hands upon pay toll. 
 
 Almost as soon as an insurrection of the
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 15 
 
 Kentish peasants was planned, Jack Straw 
 heard of the plot, and immediately sent a 
 faithful messenger to Wat Tyler, offering to 
 join the league, and engaging to bring his 
 followers with him. 
 
 The proposal was eagerly accepted ; and 
 shortly afterwards a secret meetiEg took 
 place between the smith and the Outlaw, 
 who were well pleased with each other. 
 
 Their feelings were in common. They 
 both hated the nobility, and burnt to avenge 
 the wrongs inflicted on the serfs. Both 
 desired to level all distinctions of rank, and 
 partition all property among the people. 
 And this was singular in the case of Gruibald 
 le Mauduit, for, though an outcast, he really 
 belonged to a noble family. 
 
 Before separating, each confederate drew 
 his dagger, pierced his left arm, and, as 
 blood flowed from the puncture, they vowed 
 eternal fidelity to each other. 
 
 Guibald le Mauduit, or Jack Straw, as we
 
 16 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 shall henceforth style him, was some ten 
 years younger than the burly smith. Tall 
 and well-proportioned, he had a spare hut 
 sinew}' frame, and was exceedingly active; 
 being so swift of foot that he could keep up 
 with a horse at full gallop. More than once 
 he had owed his safety to his remarkable 
 fleetness. 
 
 Jack Straw was by no means ill favoured, 
 but his countenance had a sinister expres- 
 sion. His complexion was excessively 
 swarthy — so swarthy as to suggest that the 
 skin must be stained by walnut juice. 
 
 Be this as it may, his dark visage, lighted 
 up by a pair of fiercely-flashing eyes, was 
 calculated to inspire terror. His raven locks 
 hung down in disorder ; and a shaggy beard, 
 of the same hue, clothed his chin. 
 
 The daring Outlaw usually rode a powerful 
 black charger, taken from the Sire de Gom- 
 megines, as that baron was on his way to
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 17 
 
 visit the young King at the Pahice of 
 Shene ; and all his men were well mounted, 
 for they found no difficulty in providing 
 themselves with steeds. They were, like- 
 wise, well armed; some with cross-bows, 
 some with lono; bows. 
 
 Their leader wore a doublet of Kendal 
 green, with a horn slung over his shoulders 
 by a green baldrick ; and on his head was a 
 small cap, with a heron's feather stuck in it. 
 Boots of supple leather, fitting close to the 
 leg, and ascending above the knee, completed 
 his picturesque costume. He was armed 
 with a broad-bladed sword and poniard, 
 and a small battle-axe was affixed to his 
 saddle. 
 
 Appended to his neck by a slender chain, 
 but entirely concealed by his jerkin, was a 
 small silver case, containing a single straw, 
 brought from the dungeon of St. Peter, at 
 Kome. From this straw, which he devoutly 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 18 MEREY ENGLAND. 
 
 believed would shield Mm from a violent 
 death, the Outlaw took his name. 
 
 Wlien John Ball was arrested by the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, Jack Straw found 
 means of communicating with him in his 
 prison, and undertook to deliver him ; but 
 the friar bade him not trouble himself 
 about him, saying that his work Avas done, 
 and that it would be time enough to set him 
 free when the general rising took place. 
 
 It was clear that the outbreak could not 
 long be delayed, for the ferment among the 
 people had been heightened by another most 
 obnoxious measure. 
 
 A poll-tax of three groats was imposed 
 upon every person, male and female, through- 
 out the kingdom, above fifteen years of age ; 
 and as it was foreseen that there would be 
 great difficulty in collecting this tax, it was 
 farmed to a rich company of Lombard mer- 
 chants, then resident in the City of London.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 19 
 
 As might be expected, these merchants 
 proceeded most rigorously ; and employed 
 the roughest collectors they could find, en- 
 joining them to let none escape who were 
 liable to the tax. 
 
 The collectors set about their task with 
 zeal ; and everywhere complaints arose from 
 the people of the brutal usage they expe- 
 rienced from them. 
 
 "Wat Tyler heard of these murmurs with 
 secret ^'satisfaction. The more the peasants 
 were exasperated, the better it served his 
 purpose. 
 
 As yet no collector of the poll-tax had 
 visited Dartford ; but its turn would soon 
 come, and then a disturbance might be 
 expected.
 
 II. 
 
 E D IT H A. 
 
 DITHA, the smith's daughter, was 
 now verging upon fifteen, and, 
 though her charms were not fully 
 developed, she gave promise of remarkable 
 beauty. 
 
 Her lineaments were delicately moulded ; 
 her eyes blue and limpid, and arched over 
 by dark, pencilled brows ; while her tresses 
 were light and fleecy. 
 
 She had neither the look nor the manner 
 of a rustic maiden ; nor did she bear any 
 personal resemblance to either of her parents. 
 But it will not be wondered at that her 
 manner should be superior to her condition,
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 2i 
 
 when we mention that she had been most 
 carefally instructed by the prioress of St. 
 Mary and St. Margaret, who took especial 
 interest in her. 
 
 So much effect had the good prioress's 
 teaching and discourses produced upon the 
 smith's daughter, that the villagers declared 
 that she would end by becoming a nun. 
 
 Dame Tyler was three or four years 
 younger than her husband, and still comely. 
 She was rather inclined to gossip with her 
 neighbours ; and so little reliance had Wat 
 Tyler in her discretion, that he kept her in 
 complete ignorance of the plot in which he 
 was engaged. 
 
 On "Whit-Monday morn, in the year pre- 
 viously mentioned — and a most lovely morn 
 it was — a young damsel issued from the 
 Priory gate, and took her way beneath the 
 trees towards the village. 
 
 Her footstep was as light as that of a
 
 22 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 fawn ; and as slie tripped along the path, 
 ever and anon pausing to listen to the 
 carolling of the birds, a smile of happiness 
 played upon her charming countenance. 
 
 No fairer creature was abroad on that 
 delightful morning than this young damsel. 
 As some old folks who watched her thought, 
 she was an object to gladden the eye. 
 
 Her simple attire suited her well. She 
 wore a hood and wimple. Her kirtle was 
 of scarlet sendall, but not too long to hide 
 her small laced buskins. From the girdle 
 that spanned her slender waist hung a 
 rosary of red beads ; and she was likewise 
 provided with an aulmoniere, or silken 
 purse, which had been given her by Prioress 
 Isabel. In her hand she carried a mass- 
 book. 
 
 As she moved on she met several villao-e 
 maidens, most of them a few years older 
 than herself, but none half so fair.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 23 
 
 All of them greeted her, and some stopped 
 r ; 
 her. 
 
 for a moment to exchange a few words with 
 
 " Give you good morrow, gentle Editha !" 
 cried one of these maidens, a comely damsel 
 of nineteen, with a ripe cherry lip and eyes 
 black as a sloe, who was carrying a pail of 
 milk to the Priory. " You will come to the 
 sports this afternoon, I hope ? All the lads 
 of the village will be on the green. They 
 are now dressing the May-pole with garlands 
 and flowers, and a band of minstrels from 
 Eochester arrived last night at the ' Bull/ 
 There will be dancing and mumming, and 
 no lack of cakes and Whitsun ale." 
 
 Thus spoke Marjory, the milkmaid, a 
 damsel who had many admirers ; and she 
 ended by a loud laugh, that displayed her 
 white teeth. 
 
 But Editha replied, rather gravely, " The 
 Lady Prioress has given me permission to
 
 24 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 view the sports, so I shall come to the green 
 with my mother ; but I don't think I shall 
 take any part in them." 
 
 " Ah, you'll change j'^our mind when you 
 hear the merry sound of the tabor and pipe !" 
 said Mai;jory, again laughing. 
 
 "I scarcely think so," replied Editha. 
 " I'm sure the Lady Prioress wouldn't ap- 
 prove of my dancing." 
 
 " She wont inflict a very severe penance 
 upon you," returned Marjory; "and if you 
 mean to take the vow, I would advise you 
 to enjoy yourself while you can." 
 
 " I have no intention of becoming a nun," 
 rejoined Editha. " But I wont do anj^thing 
 to incur Lady Isabel's displeasure." 
 
 " No wonder you're such a favourite with 
 her," cried Marjory, rather spitefully. 
 
 And she went off with her pail. 
 
 As Editha pursued her way homewards 
 she had to pass the green, in the midst of 
 which stood the May-pole.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 
 
 Already adorned with garlands and ropes 
 of Howers, as Marjory the milkmaid had 
 stated, it looked very pretty; and as she 
 stopped for a moment to gaze at it, several 
 young rustics hastened towards her; but 
 she started off again instantly, and left 
 them. 
 
 From the aspect of the usually quiet vil- 
 lage, any one might have known it was a 
 fete day. The church hells were ringing 
 joyous peals, and other enlivening sounds 
 were heard. 
 
 Preparations for merry-making and festi- 
 vity at a later hour seemed to be going on 
 at many of the picturesque habitations that 
 formed the long, straggling street leading 
 to the wooden bridge across the silver 
 Darent. 
 
 The chief hostel in the village bore the 
 sign of the " Bull," as does the large, com- 
 fortable inn that has succeeded it. In 
 front of the " Bull" stood the little band
 
 26 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 of minstrels of whom the milkmaid had 
 spoken. 
 
 Tall, strong-looking: fellows, not much 
 like ordinary minstrels, they were provided 
 with cornet, tabor, and fife. Though urged 
 to play by the crowd collected around, 
 they declined to do so till the sports 
 began. 
 
 Like the rest of the villagers, Wat Tyler 
 seemed disposed to give himself a holiday. 
 He did not put out the fire of his forge ; 
 but left his men in charge of the smithy, in 
 case they should be called upon to shoe a 
 horse, or do some other work that could 
 not be delayed. 
 
 Having put on his hood and tunic, he 
 was preparing to sally forth, when he met 
 his daughter at the door. 
 
 " Are you going out for a walk, father ?" 
 she asked. " If so, pray take me with 
 you. 
 
 " I am going to Dartford Brent," he
 
 THE I>'SUKRECTION. 27 
 
 replied. " You had better go in to your 
 mother." 
 
 But Editha would not be denied. 
 
 "That is just the walk I should like," 
 she said. " I want to gather some wild 
 thyme on the downs, and the morning is 
 charming. I must go." 
 
 The smith would rather have been with- 
 out her, but he could not resist her look, 
 and they went on together. 
 
 Many an eye followed them as they walked 
 along ; and not a fevv of the beholders were 
 struck by the contrast offered by Wat's 
 burly frame to the slight and graceful figure 
 of his daughter. 
 
 In the market-place there were a few 
 women with baskets, containing eggs, butter, 
 and honey ; and others with pigeons, ducks, 
 goslings, and freshly-caught trout, for which 
 the Darent was renowned, and tliey all 
 gathered round the smith ; but he made no 
 purchases.
 
 28 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 When lie drew near the " Bull," one of 
 the minstrels we have described made a sign, 
 and having caught Wat's eye, pointed to- 
 wards the eastern downs. 
 
 The smith nodded his head, to signify 
 that he understood what was meant, and 
 marched on with his daughter. 
 
 They were now in St. Edmund's Way, so 
 called from the chantr}^ of St. Edmund 
 Martyr, which stood there. Of such pecu- 
 liar sanctity was this ancient chapel, that it 
 was always visited by the pilgrims to Can- 
 terbury. The priests were now saying mass 
 in the chantry, and Editha would fain have 
 had her father enter, and join them in their 
 devotions, but he heeded not her request. 
 
 A little further on was the church, and 
 here again mass was being celebrated. Once 
 more Wat turned a deaf ear to his daughter's 
 entreaties to him to go in, and hastened to 
 cross the wooden bridge over the Darent.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 29 
 
 Leaning for a moment over the rails, lie saw 
 the trout darting past beneath, and pointed 
 them out to Editha. 
 
 They now began to climb the steep side 
 of the hill, which was overgrown with juni- 
 per, and when they gained the brow of the 
 eminence a lovely prospect burst upon them. 
 
 Both, of course, were familiar with the 
 view, yet they regarded it with as much 
 delight as if they beheld it for the first time. 
 The bright sunshine that lighted up the 
 picture enhanced its beauty. 
 
 In the midst of a wide valley, watered by 
 the silver Darent, and by another clear trout 
 stream, called the Cray, and bounded on 
 either side by a range of downs, lay the 
 pretty and picturesque village of Dartford, 
 
 Even then, it was not a very small village, 
 and boasted, as we have shown, a church, a 
 priory, and a chantry, the two latter being 
 in great repute.
 
 30 MERUr ENGLAND. 
 
 Indeed, Lady Isabel, the Prioress of St. 
 Mary's, of whom we have akeady spoken, 
 and several of the nuns, belonged to noble 
 families. 
 
 The priory, which had only been founded 
 some five-and-twenty years before the date 
 of our story by Edward III., was a large 
 pile, built of brick, situated at the foot of a 
 softly-sloping hill at the north-west of the 
 village. In the wood near the priory was a 
 hermitage. 
 
 Almost immediately beneath those who 
 gazed upon the prospect were the chantry 
 and the church, with the Darent flowing on 
 through the valley, till it was joined by the 
 Cray, when their combined waters formed a 
 creek, deep enough to serve as a harbour 
 for small vessels trading with London. 
 
 Water-mills there were on both streams ; 
 but paper-mills and powder-mills were, of 
 course, unknown.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 31 
 
 At a short distance beyond the creek we 
 have just described could be seen the 
 Thames ; the woody heights on the opposite 
 shore belonged to Essex. 
 
 On the left the view was circumscribed 
 by a number of hills, most of them covered 
 with woods, amidst which, here and there, 
 could be distinguished the turrets and cas- 
 tellated walls of some Norman mansion. 
 
 At that early period the original aspect 
 of the country was almost unchanged. Much 
 land was uncultivated, and not even cleared ; 
 vast tracts being still covered by prima3val 
 forests. 
 
 Beyond the down, on which Wat Tyler 
 and his daughter stood, contemplating* the 
 lovely scene we have attempted to describe, 
 stretched a flat, heathy plain, called Dartford 
 Brent. 
 
 It was skirted on the right by a thick 
 wood, which was thought to harbour rob-
 
 32 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 bers ; for several travellers journe3ang by 
 that road to Eochester, or coming thence to 
 Dartford, had been plundered of late. 
 
 Editlia was somewhat surprised, therefore, 
 when her father told her he was going on to 
 a short distance by himself, and bade her sit 
 down on the turf, and read her mass-book 
 till his return. 
 
 Without waiting for an answer, he set off 
 at a quick pace in the direction of the wood ; 
 but he had not got far, when a band of 
 armed men issued from the thicket, and rode 
 towards him. 
 
 From the wild appearance of these men, 
 who were about a dozen in number, Editha 
 could not doubt they were robbers ; but it 
 was evident her father had no cause for 
 apprehension, for the leader of the band, 
 who was mounted on a powerful black horse, 
 signed to his followers to halt, and gallop- 
 ing up to the smith, greeted him in ;i very 
 friendly manner.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 83 
 
 Editlia was confounded at the sight. 
 
 She was reluctant to believe that her 
 father would hold any intercourse with the 
 captain of a band of robbers ; yet there he 
 was, standing close to the suspicious-looking 
 horseman, and conversing amicably with 
 him. 
 
 VOL. 1.
 
 III. 
 
 OF THE INTERVIEW ON DARTFORD BRENT. 
 
 ACK STRAW— for it was he 
 
 wliom Editha beheld conversing 
 with her father — was urgent that 
 the signal for revolt should be given. 
 
 " I cannot see what is to be gained 
 by further delay," he said to the smith. 
 " Everywhere the people are ready to rise, 
 and as soon as the standard of rebellion is 
 raised, thousands will join it. In Essex 
 there has aheady been an outbreak. Two 
 of my emissaries have just returned from 
 Brentwood, with the news that the men of 
 Fobbing have put to flight the Chief Justice 
 of the Common Pleas, and have slain the 
 jurymen and clerks, and stuck their heads
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 35 
 
 on poles. The whole country will soon be 
 in a flame." 
 
 "This occurred at Fobbing, you say?" 
 remarked Wat Tyler. 
 
 " Only yesterday," replied the Outlaw. 
 " Thomas de Bampton, the tax commis- 
 sioner, has been holding a court of taxation 
 at Brentwood; but the men of Fobbing 
 refused to attend him, and the Chief Justice 
 came down to punish them. But they have 
 punished him. Shall we not follow their 
 example ?" 
 
 " They have had a pretext, which we 
 want," observed the smith. 
 
 "But the opportunity ought not to be 
 neglected," pursued the Outlaw. " The 
 King's three uncles are absent. John of 
 Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, who governs in 
 his youthful nephew's name, and whom we 
 have most reason to dread, is at Eoxburgh, 
 seeking to make a truce with the Scots. He 
 
 3—2
 
 36 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 cannot return. Then the Earl of Cambridge 
 is at Plymouth, preparing to set sail to 
 Lisbon, with five hundred men-at-arms, and 
 five hundred archers, to aid the King of 
 Portugal against the King of Castile. The 
 Earl of Buckingham is in Wales. Not one 
 of the three is likely to interfere with 
 us. 
 
 " There is no one to resist us, unless it be 
 the King's half-brother, the Earl of Kent," 
 observed Wat Tyler ; " and he will not be 
 able to raise an army, for the nobles hate 
 him, and will not serve under him." 
 
 '•'Our march to London will be almost 
 unopposed," said the Outlaw ; " and when 
 we arrive there, the citizens will open their 
 gates, and give us a hearty welcome." 
 
 " Nay, of a surety, we shall have the 
 Lord Mayor, William Walworth, against 
 us," said Wat Tyler. " Moreover, Sir John 
 Philpot, who levied war on his own account,
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 37 
 
 and got reprimanded by the council for his 
 pains, will stand by the King. That we 
 shall be masters of London in the end, I 
 nothing doubt ; but we must dispose of 
 Walworth and Philpot, and many others, 
 before we shall be secure. You ask me why 
 I hesitate to give the signal for the insur- 
 rection when all is ready, and the moment 
 seems propitious. I have delayed because 
 the poll tax is goading the people to mad- 
 ness, as this outbreak in Essex proves, and 
 I want them to be thoroughly roused. They 
 will not then turn back. Besides, we have 
 a duty to perform. We must be true to our 
 friends. Before the rising in this county 
 takes place, John Ball must be delivered 
 from prison, or he will be put to death by 
 the Archbishop of Canterbury. Were that 
 to happen, it would be an eternal reproach 
 to us, since he is the chief contriver of the 
 plot."
 
 38 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " The barbacan in which he is confined is 
 strongly guarded, or I should have already 
 liberated him," rejoined Jack Straw. " But 
 I will make another attempt." 
 
 "His deliverance will be best accom- 
 pKshed by stratagem," remarked Wat Tyler. 
 " As I came hither, I noticed that some of 
 your band are in the village, disguised as 
 minstrels." 
 
 "I thought you might want assistance 
 in the event of some sudden emergency, so 
 I sent Hugo Morcar and three others 
 to attend your orders. You will have a 
 grand company of pilgrims in Dartford 
 to-day." 
 
 " And you mean to wait for them here — 
 eh?" cried Wat Tyler. 
 
 "No," replied the Outlaw; "I shall not 
 attack them. 'Tis the Princess of Wales — 
 the King's mother — who is making a pil-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 39 
 
 grimage to Canterbury. She will be at- 
 tended by all her ladies, and escorted by her 
 second son, Sir John Holland, and a large 
 retinue of nobles and knights." 
 
 " Indeed !" exclaimed Wat Tyler. " Could 
 you not follow the train to Canterbury? 
 Perchance you might find some means of 
 liberating John Ball." 
 
 " I will think the matter over," replied 
 the Outlaw. " The attempt will be fraught 
 with danger, but I care not for that. If 
 aught should occur to you, send a mes- 
 sage to me by Morcar. He will know where 
 to find me." 
 
 " Grood !" said the smith. " Know you 
 at what hour the Princess of Wales may be 
 expected at Dartford ?" 
 
 "Early in the day," rejoined the other. 
 "She purposes reaching Canterbury to- 
 night."
 
 40 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 "You are well informed." 
 
 " Ay ; few persons travel by this road 
 without my hearing of them. The Princess 
 rested yesterday at the Palace at Eltham, 
 and meant to start on her pilgrimage be- 
 times. On arriving at Dartford, she will 
 visit the Lady Isabel at the priory, and 
 pay her devotions at the chantry of Edmund 
 the Martyr." 
 
 " You know more than the people of 
 Dartford themselves. I question much if 
 the Lady Isabel is aware of the honour 
 intended her. My daughter has just come 
 from the priory, and she heard nothing of 
 the Princess's visit." 
 
 "Here comes your daughter," said the 
 Outlaw, directing his attention to Editha, 
 who was speeding towards them. " She has 
 something to tell you." 
 
 " She ought not to have quitted the spot 
 where I left her," said the smith, frowning.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 41 
 
 Bidding his confederate a hasty adieu, he 
 was about to depart, when Editha, who ran 
 with great swiftness, came up. 
 
 Wat Tyler looked angry, but the Outlaw 
 
 was glad of the opportunity afforded him of 
 
 exchanging a word with the fair damsel. 
 
 He did not ride off, therefore, as Wat 
 hoped he would, but saluted her respect- 
 
 fully. 
 
 " Give you good day, fair maiden," he 
 said, with a smile that sat very ill on his 
 grim visage. 
 
 Editha returned his salutation, but not 
 without visible embarrassment, for she 
 could not conceal the mingled terror and 
 aversion with which he inspired her. 
 
 In reply to her father, who chided her for 
 disobeying his injunctions, she said, " I 
 thought you would like to know that some 
 great persons have just arrived at the vil- 
 lage. There was quite a long cavalcade of
 
 42 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 nobles, knights, esquires, and ladies, one of 
 whom was magnificently attired, and rode 
 a richly-trapped palfrey. I could see her 
 quite distinctly from where I stood on the 
 brow of the hill. The ladies with her 
 looked younger than she did, but were not 
 so richly dressed, though they all wore silks 
 and velvets; but her apparel glittered in 
 the sunshine like gold. A thought crossed 
 me that it might be the King's mother, the 
 Princess of Wales." 
 
 " You guessed rightly, fair damsel," ob- 
 served the Outlaw, nothing abashed by the 
 coldness with which Editha regarded him ; 
 " it was the Princess of Wales. Her 
 Highness is performing a pilgrimage to 
 Canterbury." 
 
 " The Lady Isabel has always told me 
 the Princess is very devout and good, and 
 passes much time in prayer," said Editha. 
 And she added, earnestly, " I hope St. Ed-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 43 
 
 mund and St. Thomas, and all good saints, 
 will watch over her, and guard her from 
 every danger — especially from robbers who 
 may lie in ambush to fall upon her." 
 
 " Her Highness has too strong an escort 
 with her, as you . may have remarked, fair 
 damsel, to be in any danger from robbers," 
 rejoined the Outlaw. " But were she wholly 
 unattended, I am sure no one would molest 
 her." 
 
 " I am glad to hear you say so," observed 
 Editha. "The widow of the Black Prince, 
 and the mother of the King, ought to be safe 
 everywhere in England." 
 
 " Go to, child ; the Princess is not the 
 friend of the people," observed Wat Tyler, 
 sternly. 
 
 " Nay, dear father, I have heard quite the 
 contrary," replied Editha. " The Prioress, 
 who always speaks truth, says she is very 
 compassionate and charitable, distributes
 
 44 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 large alms among the poor, and would 
 redress all grievances if slie could." 
 
 " She must have some influence over her 
 royal son," said Wat Tyler. '' Why does she 
 not induce him to make all men free — to 
 relieve them from the tyranny of the nobles 
 — to mete out even justice — and to lessen 
 the taxes ? If she did this, the people would 
 bless her." 
 
 '* She does all she can, I doubt not, dear 
 father. But tlie young King may have ill 
 counsellors." 
 
 " Ay, marry has he ; but they will be 
 speedily removed." 
 
 " Do you mean that he will be forced to 
 dismiss them, father ?" 
 
 " Mark my words, child. Ere a month 
 shall have passed, the young King will 
 have other and better counsellors ; who will 
 tell him plainly what the people want, and 
 what must be conceded to them, if he would 
 continue to reign."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 45 
 
 " Then you think a change is at hand, 
 father ?" 
 
 " I am sure of it, child — a great change. 
 Many will be hurled from their high places, 
 never to rise again ! They cannot resist the 
 power that will be du-ected against them — 
 the power of a long-enslaved people, who 
 have burst their fetters, and are determined 
 to assert their rights !" 
 
 " I do not like to hear you talk thus, dear 
 father," said Editha. " I hope the people will 
 not rebel. They may be treated Avith unjust 
 severity by their lords ; but if they complain 
 to the King, he will redress their wrongs." 
 
 " They will not sue for justice, but insist 
 upon it !" rejoined Wat Tyler, 
 
 " And they will speak in language that 
 cannot be misunderstood, and to which the 
 King has been hitherto unaccustomed," 
 observed the Outlaw. 
 
 " I am too young to advise you, dear 
 father," said Editha ; " and I would not pre-
 
 46 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 sume to speak did I not fear you may place 
 yourself in fearful jeopardy by aiding this 
 rebellious scheme, which, I can perceive, is 
 on foot. Take no part in it, as you value 
 your safety !" 
 
 " You are wise beyond your years, child," 
 said her father ; " and are better able to give 
 advice than many of your elders. But your 
 discernment fails you now. You are ignorant 
 of the sufferings of the people, and of their 
 utter inability to obtain redress." 
 
 " Surely they can obtain redress by lawful 
 means ?" 
 
 " No !" replied her father, sternly ; "jus- 
 tice is utterly denied them. They have 
 borne their burthen till it has become un- 
 supportable; and they must cast it off, or 
 sink under the weight. The nobles have 
 had repeated warnings ; and if they will 
 not heed them, they must take the con- 
 sequences."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 47 
 
 " They shall not tyrannize over us much 
 longer !" said the Outlaw. " "We will sweep 
 them all from the face of the land !" 
 
 " And seize upon their possessions — is that 
 what you mean ?" cried Editha, with disgust. 
 " Father," she added, turning to him, " the 
 cause cannot be good that renders it neces- 
 sary to associate with lawless men." 
 
 Wat Tyler repressed the angry remark 
 that rose to his lips ; and changing his 
 manner suddenly, said, " You think we have 
 been talking seriously, child." 
 
 " Have you not ?" she cried, eagerly. 
 
 Her father replied by a rough laugh, in 
 which the Outlaw joined. 
 
 "Not we!" said the latter. "I but 
 carried on the jest started by yom- father — 
 ho, ho!" 
 
 " 'Tis for poor men to rebel," added Wat 
 Tyler. " I have too much to do, and gain 
 too much."
 
 48 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " And I can help myself to what I want !" 
 laughed the Outlaw. " The nobles must 
 submit to my exactions ; not I to 
 theirs." 
 
 Editha did not seem convinced by these 
 assertions ; but, being anxious to get her 
 father away, she made a movement to depai-t, 
 saying she wished to see the Princess of 
 Wales. 
 
 With a significant glance at the Outlaw, 
 Wat Tyler immediately followed her. 
 
 " I hope you will have nothing to do with 
 that man, dear father," she remarked, as 
 they walked along. " His appearance 
 terrifies me !" 
 
 " Oh, you will get accustomed to him in 
 time." 
 
 " Never ! I shall never be able to endure 
 him ! But he will not dare to enter the 
 village, so I am not likely to behold him 
 acain."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 49 
 
 Wat Tyler made no reply to this observa- 
 tion, and tliey went on in silence. 
 
 The Outlaw's thoughts dwelt upon Editha 
 as he rode back to his men. 
 
 " A lovely creature !" he mentally ejacu- 
 lated. " I must ask her father to give her 
 to me as a wife. He cannot refuse ; and 
 her own consent is unnecessary." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 IV. 
 
 HOW THE FBX3CCES5 OF WALES TISITED TffE 
 PKiOSES? OF ST. XAST AVD ST. XAXGASET. 
 
 "HAXXA, daaghter of Edward d" 
 Wc*od5tock, widow of the Black 
 Prince, and ma&ear of Sichard 
 XL. liad been aceoontad tiie moei beantifal 
 
 -^ : z-iz. iz. -. jdom, and she was still 
 
 1 Sir John Holland, 
 
 v_ LI. : _ : : _:f vriie, was created Earl 
 :: Z^.L". ..:_ . L: . ' ... : Lyddl, she had 
 
 two ; 1 fd to the 
 
 -:Z 1. : : rr, while the 
 
 . : r Sir J : .-l Both 
 
 TT.: ; jieat
 
 THE INSURRECTIOX. 51 
 
 Owing to the death of her renowned con- 
 sort in the lifetime of his father, Edward 
 HI., the Princess of Wales never rose to the 
 throne. Devotedly attached to her son 
 Eichard, she constantly prayed that he might 
 become a great warrior like his sire. 
 
 She dreaded John of Graunt, believing that 
 he designed to dethrone her son ; but she 
 had equal reason to fear the baneful in- 
 fluence exercised over the young King b}^ 
 his two half-brothers. Maternal partiality, 
 however, blinded her to their faults. 
 
 The Princess was not ignorant of the 
 general discontent caused among the common 
 people by the capitation tax; but she did 
 not apprehend any serious result, far less 
 imasrine that an insurrection was imminent. 
 
 It was at the instance of the Archbishop 
 of Canterbury that she had undertaken her 
 present pilgrimage to the shi'ine of St. 
 Thomas-a-Becket. 
 
 4—2 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 52 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 She was accompanied in the journey by 
 her ladies, all of whom were high-born 
 damsels of great beauty ; by a numerous and 
 splendid retinue of nobles and knights, at 
 the head of whom was her handsome and 
 haughty son. Sir John Holland ; by her 
 confessor, her physician, her almoner, 
 esquires, pages, yeomen, and grooms, all in 
 the royal liveries ; two j-eomen ushers, two 
 grooms, two pages, and a guard of armed 
 men. 
 
 Though the Princess of Wales was no 
 longer the peerless beauty, who, as the 
 widowed Countess of Kent, had captivated 
 that flower of English knighthood, the brave 
 Edward of England, Prince of Wales and 
 Aquitaine, she was still, as we have already 
 said, exceedingly handsome, and possessed 
 great dignity of manner. 
 
 Her complexion was ravishingly fair, and 
 her dark tresses, arranged in thick square
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 53 
 
 plaits at the side of the face, set off her 
 finely cut features. 
 
 At the back of her head she wore a caul, 
 adorned with precious stones, from which 
 streamed a long contoise. Her gown, of 
 satin tissue, fitted tightly at the waist, so as 
 to display her charming figure, and was suf- 
 ficiently long to cover her feet. Her cyclas, 
 or upper tunic, was of cloth of gold. Her 
 girdle, which hung loose above the hips, 
 was studded with gems. ,From it was sus- 
 pended z^gipciere, or purse of crimson velvet, 
 adorned with gold lace tassels. Nor can it 
 be supposed that she was unprovided with 
 a rosary. 
 
 The trappings of her palfrey were of blue 
 velvet, embroidered all over in gold and 
 silver thread, with the royal badge of the 
 white hart, crowned and chained, the sun 
 emerging from a cloud, and the planta 
 (je/iisfa, or bloom plant.
 
 54 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Thus splendidly arrayed, the Princess of 
 Wales completely outshone the troop of 
 noble damsels by whom slie was attended. 
 Yet they were the fairest ornaments of the 
 Court; surpassingly beautiful, and richly 
 attired. But they paled before her like stars 
 in the presence of the queen of night. 
 
 Sir John Holland possessed a tall and 
 graceful figure, set off by rich apparel ; but 
 his handsome features were marred by an 
 expression of pride and arrogance. He rode 
 a high-mettled Andalusian jennet, given 
 him by the Duke of Lancaster, and the 
 impatient movements of the fiery horse 
 accorded with his own haughty deportment. 
 
 He was accoutred in a light blue tunic, 
 interwoven with threads of gold and silver, 
 fitting tightly to his person, but having 
 loose sleeves. A short two-edged sword 
 hung from his side, and a gipciere was 
 attached to his girdle. His hose were parti-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 55 
 
 coloured, blue and wMte, and his red Morocco 
 leather boots had enormously long peaked 
 points — then called cracowes — fastened to 
 the knees with chains of gold, and prevent- 
 ing the use of the stirrup. His spurs were 
 of gold. 
 
 On his dark-brown locks, cut short, and 
 square on the forehead, but allowed to hang 
 down on the side, he wore a blue velvet 
 cap, trimmed with costly fur, and having an 
 ostrich feather at the back, that drooped 
 over the head, and was secured by a diamond 
 clasp. 
 
 We have been thus minute in describing 
 the rich attire of the young King's half- 
 brother, because we desire to give some 
 notion of the splendour affected by the 
 Court gallants of the period. 
 
 Indeed, all the young nobles and knights 
 who now formed the Princess's equipage 
 wore velvet doublets and mantles of varied
 
 56 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 hues, and more or less richly embroidered, 
 particoloured hose and cracowes. 
 
 The royal confessor and almoner rode 
 upon mules, and could easily be distinguished 
 amid the gaily attired throng, by their dark 
 stoles and hoods. 
 
 Sumpter-mules followed, laden with 
 trunks, containing change of apparel for the 
 Princess and her ladies ; and the armed 
 escort brought up the rear. 
 
 After descending the hill, the cortege pro- 
 ceeded to the priory, the gardens and out- 
 buildings of which extended to the foot of 
 the down. 
 
 A harbinger, apparelled in the royal 
 livery, had been sent on to announce the 
 approach of the Princess, so that her arrival 
 was expected. 
 
 Passing through the embattled gateway, 
 in front of which a considerable number of 
 villagers, of both sexes, were collected round
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 57 
 
 the procession, the Princess and her suite 
 entered the spacious courtyard; the armed 
 men being left outside the gate. 
 
 Beneath the deep-arched doorway of the 
 rehgious edifice, with a cluster of nuns be- 
 hind her in white angular head-dresses and 
 gorgets, was stationed the Prioress, awaiting 
 her royal visitor. 
 
 So rigid was the attitude of the Lady 
 Isabel, that as she stood there, with her 
 arms folded upon her breast, in her loose 
 white woollen robe, worked with a cross, 
 with her coverchief on her head, and a 
 pleated linen barbe beneath her chin, she 
 looked like a sculptured effigy on a tomb. 
 
 The onl}'' signs of life discernible in her 
 pale and motionless features came from the 
 eyes. 
 
 With the assistance of the grooms, the 
 Princess alighted from her palfrey, and at- 
 tended by the pages, and followed by the
 
 58 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 whole of her ladies, stepped towards the 
 Prioress, who advanced to meet her in a very- 
 stately manner, and stretching her arms over 
 her, as she bent reverently, pronounced a 
 benison upon her. 
 
 This ceremonial performed, the Lady 
 Superior bade her royal visitor welcome, and 
 conducted her into the priory.
 
 V. 
 
 THE PRIORESS OF ST. MARY AND ST. MARGARET, 
 DARTFORD. 
 
 SABEL DE CAVEESECAM, 
 
 Prioress of St. Mary and St. 
 Margaret, belonged to a noble 
 family ; and before lier retirement from the 
 world — now some fifteen years ago — had 
 been distinguished for grace and beauty. 
 Knights had worn her colours and con- 
 tended for her smiles. 
 
 Once the fairest of the fair, the Eady 
 Isabel had become prematurely old ; her 
 dark tresses were streaked with gre}^, and 
 though her face still retained its noble out- 
 line, its softness and comeliness had fled. 
 
 Yet she was barely thirty-five. Never
 
 60 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 now did a smile play upon her thin lips ; 
 but though her looks were severe, and her 
 manner cold, her heart was full of kindness 
 and compassion. 
 
 Among the sisterhood she had no special 
 favourites, though several were high-born 
 like herself; but she was greatly attached, 
 as we have shown, to the smith's daughter, 
 Editha, who had been brought to her, when 
 a child, by Dame Tyler, and whom she had 
 caused to be carefully instructed by Sister 
 Eudoxia, one of the elder nuns. 
 
 The Lady Isabel led her royal visitor to 
 the refectory, a large hall, wainscoted with 
 dark oak, and provided with two long-, 
 narrow tables and benches for the sisterhood, 
 and an elevated table for the Prioress and 
 her guests. 
 
 At the upper end of the hall was a large 
 painted wooden carving of the crucifixion. 
 Midway was a reading-desk, from which
 
 THE INSURRECTION. Gl 
 
 o-race was said before each meal. At the 
 bottom of the hall were open hatches, com- 
 municating with the kitchens, whence the 
 simple fare allotted to the sisterhood was 
 brought. 
 
 All the domestics were lay sisters, and 
 wore the habits of the order. They were 
 now garnishing the upper table, while the 
 nuns were assembled in the centre of the hall. 
 
 Shortly after the entrance of the Princess 
 her ladies made their appearance ; and 
 several of them having relatives among the 
 nuns, affectionate greetings took place. 
 Thus mingled together, the gaily-attired 
 damsels and the saintly sisters in their 
 woollen robes and white head-dresses and 
 wimples, formed a curious picture. 
 
 The only male persons privileged to 
 enter the nunnery were the confessor and 
 the almoner, and they were presented to the 
 Lady Superior by the Princess. Nobles,
 
 62 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 knights, and esquires were compelled to 
 remain without in the courtyard. Even 
 the pages were excluded. 
 
 All being arranged on the upper table, 
 the Prioress besought her royal guest to 
 take some refreshment ; but the latter 
 declined, telling the Lady Isabel that she 
 wished to confer with her in private. 
 
 On this, the Prioress signed to a dignified 
 nun, whom she addressed as Sister Sulpicia, 
 and bade her take her place ; after which she 
 quitted the hall with the Princess, and con- 
 ducted her to a locutory, or parlour, on the 
 other side of the building. 
 
 They were preceded by Sister Eudoxia, 
 the elderly nun of whom we have spoken ; 
 and having ushered them into the locutory, 
 the sedate sister, whose countenance seemed 
 as if it could never be ruffled, immediately 
 retired. 
 
 The locutory, which was used by the
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 63 
 
 Prioress aucl the sisters for conversation, 
 differed little from an ordinary parlour of 
 the period. It was furnished with high- 
 backed oak chairs, one of which, more 
 elaborately carved than the rest, and pro- 
 vided with a brocaded cushion and a velvet 
 footstool, was reserved for the Lady Supe- 
 rior. Near this was a small oak table. 
 The walls were hung with tapestry. The 
 bay windows were filled with stained glass, 
 that gave a dim, religious light to the room, 
 and adorned with a picture of the Madonna. 
 
 No sooner was the door of the locutory 
 closed by Sister Eudoxia, than a remarkable 
 change took place in the deportment both 
 of the Prioress and her royal guest. 
 
 As yet, they had given no sign of previous 
 acquaintance. Now it was certain they 
 were old friends. After gazing at each 
 other affectionately for a few moments, they 
 embraced as tenderly as sisters.
 
 VI. 
 
 OF THE COUNSEL GIVEN BY THE LADY ISABEL 
 TO THE PRINCESS. 
 
 HEN tlie first effusions of delic:ht 
 were over, the Lady Isabel 
 begged the Princess to take the 
 state-cliair, and sat down opposite her. 
 
 " I did not think I should ever see your 
 Grace again," she said. "But though 
 many years have flown since we met, my 
 love for you is in nowise diminished, and 
 you liave rarely been absent from my 
 thoughts. But you have never come near 
 me !" she added, in a tone of slight reproach. 
 " You know why I have not visited you, 
 dearest Isabel," replied the Princess, " so I 
 need make no excuse. I hope you are
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 65 
 
 happy. I did not expect to find you so 
 much changed." 
 
 " I am as happy as I am ever Kkely to be 
 in this workl," said the Prioress, mournfully, 
 for some painful recollections had evidently 
 rushed upon her. " You yourself have had 
 a great sorrow ; but the affliction you have 
 undergone has not impaired your beauty." 
 
 " I marvel at it, for I have suffered much 
 and deeply," rejoined the Princess ; " but I 
 have been obliged to smother my grief 
 AVhen I lost the noblest, the bravest, the 
 best husband ever possessed by woman, I 
 should have followed your example, and 
 have retired to a convent, had it not been 
 for tlie Prince, my son. But I promised his 
 royal father, who foresaw the danger he 
 would incur when he came to the throne 
 from his ambitious uncles, that I would 
 watch constantly over him, and I have kept 
 my word. Only by ceaseless vigilance have 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 I preserved the young King from their 
 designs. You may think I have uncontrolled 
 authority, but I have little real power. 
 Eichard is surrounded by favourites and 
 flatterers, and will not always listen to my 
 advice." 
 
 " Be not discouraged, gracious madam !" 
 said the Prioress, earnestly. '' Persevere in 
 your efforts to keep the youthful King in 
 the right course, and make him worthy of 
 his illustrious father. I would you had 
 power to redress the grievances of the people, 
 who suffer much from oppression ; and if 
 their complaints continue unheeded, I fear 
 they will break out into open rebellion. I 
 do not desire to alarm your Grace ; but I 
 must not conceal from you that there is 
 great murmuring among the peasantry in 
 this part of Kent, and also, as I understand, 
 in Essex." 
 
 " Discontent everywhere prevails," said
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 67 
 
 the Princess, " and unhappily there is good 
 cause for it. But an insurrection would 
 serve the Duke of Lancaster's purpose, as it 
 miglit end in the King's dethronement, and 
 enable the Duke to seize the crown. There- 
 fore the people are goaded on instead of 
 being quieted." 
 
 "Is it possible the King can be insensible 
 to this danger ?" asked the Prioress. 
 
 " He has perfect faith in the loyalty of 
 his uncles, and will not believe me when I 
 warn him against them. He thinks my 
 apprehensions groundless." 
 
 " Have you lost your influence over 
 him?" 
 
 *•' Not entirely. But I must confess it is 
 less than it used to be. I have told you 
 the King is surrounded by flatterers, who 
 are secretly adverse to me." 
 
 " By counteracting their designs, you 
 cannot fail to regain your influence over 
 
 5—2
 
 68 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 your son. But your first business must be 
 to save him from his present danger. Be- 
 lieve me, it can only be averted by making 
 large concessions to the people." 
 
 " Were I to propose such a measure as 
 you recommend, I should array all the 
 nobles against me. Besides, I am certain 
 the Council of State would reject it." 
 
 " Not if the King insists. Something 
 must be promptly done to allay the present 
 agitation, or great calamities will inevitably 
 ensue. The throne itself may be shaken." 
 
 Pronounced with great solemnity, these 
 words could not fail to produce a strong 
 effect upon the listener. 
 
 " Give heed to my warning, Princess," 
 pursued the Lady Isabel, with increased 
 earnestness of tone. " Let not the King 
 hesitate, or he may be forced into com- 
 pliance." 
 
 "Ha!" exclaimed the Princess; "you
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 69 
 
 have heard more than you choose to tell 
 me. 
 
 " I have heard more than I dare repeat," 
 rejoined the Prioress. " Had I not seen 
 your Grace to-day, it was my intention to 
 write to you." 
 
 " Can you give me any proofs of the dan- 
 gerous design you apprehend, that I uiay 
 lay them before the King?" demanded the 
 Princess. 
 
 " Impossible ! But I may perhaps obtain 
 more precise information before you return 
 from Canterbury. Think you not, since the 
 danger is so imminent, that you ought to 
 put off your pilgrimage ?" 
 
 " I cannot," replied the Princess. " I 
 have a vow to fulfil." 
 
 " Prolong not your stay more than is 
 needful. Haply your Grace may think I 
 exaggerate the peril, and am unduly appre- 
 hensive ; but I have good reason for my
 
 70 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 fears. There is a smith in this village, 
 whose daughter, Editha, comes daily to re- 
 ceive instruction from Sister Eudoxia, and 
 from this damsel I have learnt much that 
 has led me to make further inquiries, the 
 result being to convince me that a rising of 
 the peasantry is to be apprehended. The 
 mischievous doctrines of the apostate priest, 
 Wycliffe, who preaches equality and the 
 partition of property, have been dissemi- 
 nated among the people by a Franciscan 
 friar, named John Ball, and the seeds of 
 sedition being thus scattered broadcast, are 
 now producing a plentiful crop. Wycliffe 
 deserves death. Neither the King nor our 
 holy Church have a worse enemy. He 
 would overthrow both." 
 ' " Wycliffe is protected by the Duke of 
 Lancaster, and is therefore safe from punish- 
 ment," observed the Princess. " Should it 
 chance that the smith's daughter of whom
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 71 
 
 you have just spoken is in the priory at this 
 moment, I would fain question her." 
 
 " I will ascertain at once," replied the 
 Lady Superior. 
 
 And she struck a small silver bell placed 
 upon the table. 
 
 The summons was immediately answered 
 by Sister Eudoxia, who, in reply to the 
 Prioress's inquiries, said that Editha had 
 just come in, and had gone to the novi- 
 tiate. 
 
 " Bring her hither," said the Lady Isabel. 
 " The Princess desire^ to speak to her." 
 
 Much pleased by the order, Sister Eu- 
 doxia hastened to obey it. 
 
 " I am not sorry your Grace should see 
 the young damsel," continued the Prioress. 
 " I take great interest in her. She is very 
 good and very gentle, and I hope may be- 
 come a novice. But she is not yet old 
 enough to profess."
 
 72 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " "What is her age?" inquired the Prin- 
 cess. 
 
 " Scarce fifteen," was the reply. 
 
 " She must have been born about the time 
 you entered this retreat," observed the 
 Princess. 
 
 Made quite inadvertently, this remark 
 caused the Lady Isabel to become pale as 
 death, and the Princess regretted that she 
 had uttered it.
 
 VII. 
 
 tired. 
 
 THE LAriS LAZULI TABLET. 
 
 HORTLY afterwards Editlia was 
 ushered into tlie locutory of Sister 
 Eudoxia, who immediately re- 
 
 The young damsel made a profound 
 obeisance to the Princess, and then in- 
 clining to the Lady Superior, kissed her 
 hand. 
 
 Struck by her remarkable beauty and com- 
 posure of manner, the Princess contemplated 
 her with surprise, not unmixed with cu- 
 riosity. 
 
 " This fair girl cannot be a smith's daugh- 
 ter," she remarked, in an under-tone, to the 
 Prioress.
 
 74 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " 'Tis as I have stated," rejoined the Lady 
 Isabel. 
 
 " And her mother ?" 
 
 " Is a very worthy dame of like degree." 
 
 For a moment the Princess seemed lost in 
 reflection. 
 
 Then with a very gracious smile, she ad- 
 dressed Editha. 
 
 " Have you always dwelt in Dartford, 
 child?" she asked. 
 
 " Always, your Grace," was the reply ; 
 " and I have no desire to dwell elsewhere." 
 
 " Not even in a palace ?" asked the Prin- 
 cess. 
 
 " Such a thought has never entered my 
 head. A palace is no place for me." 
 
 " A discreet reply," said the Princess, 
 smiling approvingly. "But suppose I were 
 to make you one of my handmaidens ?" 
 
 Editha looked at the Prioress, not knowing 
 exactly what answer she ought to give.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 75 
 
 " Be not afraid to speak, claugliter," said 
 the Lady Isabel. 
 
 " I have taken a fancy to you, child," 
 pursued the Princess, " and I should like to 
 have you near me." 
 
 " I am deeply beholden to your Grace/' 
 replied Editha. " But I am so happy in the 
 priory, that I should be loth to quit it. All 
 the Sisters are kind to me ; but kindest 
 of all is our holy Prioress, and I should 
 be ungrateful, indeed, if I could leave 
 her." 
 
 " Heaven forbid I should tempt you, 
 child," cried the Princess. " Think no more 
 of what I said. I am glad to find you are 
 so warmly attached to the good Prioress, 
 who well deserves your love." 
 
 " Our Lady Superior has often spoken to 
 me of your Grace," said Editha, " and has 
 held you up to me as a model of piety and 
 goodness."
 
 76 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Nay, you must not learn to flatter, 
 child," observed the Princess. 
 
 " I have told you, daughter, that the 
 Princess is most anxious to redress the 
 grievances of the people." 
 
 " That I am," said the Princess. " Do 
 the people of Dartford complain?" she 
 added, to Editha. 
 
 " They do more than complain, jouy 
 Grace," was the reply — " they threaten ; and 
 I fear if something be not done speedily to 
 tranquillize them, they will rise in revolt." 
 
 The Princess and the Lady Isabel ex- 
 changed glances. 
 
 " A few villagers cannot rise in revolt, 
 child/' remarked the Princess. 
 
 " The rising will not be confined to Dart- 
 ford, gracious madam ; but will extend to 
 the whole countr}^ which is in a most dis- 
 turbed state, owing to the preaching of Friar 
 John Ball. He is now in prison, but his
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 77 
 
 discourses are repeated by others, coupled 
 with denunciations of vengeance." 
 
 " Vengeance against whom ?" demanded 
 the Princess. 
 
 " Against the nobles, your Grrace," replied 
 Editha. 
 
 " Has the King been threatened ?" 
 
 " No, madam ; but threats are frequently 
 uttered against his ministers." 
 
 " And such seditious talk is tolerated 
 here?" 
 
 " Not tolerated, gracious madam ; but it 
 cannot be repressed. The peasantry are 
 deeply discontented, and keep little guard 
 upon their tongues. Could your Grace 
 behold their sullen countenances when they 
 assemble to discuss their wrongs, as they 
 term them, or listen to their murmurs 
 against their oppressors, as they designate 
 the nobles, you would think that such signs 
 of danger ought not to be neglected."
 
 78 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " They sliall not be neglected," remarked 
 the Princess. 
 
 " I feel I am presumptuous in speaking 
 thus," added Editha. " But my zeal must 
 plead my excuse." 
 
 " You have spoken well," rejoined the 
 Princess ; " and I thank j^ou." 
 
 Then taking a small tablet of lapis lazuli, 
 garnished with precious stones, from her 
 e/ipciere, she graciously bestowed it upon the 
 damsel. 
 
 " As coming from your Grace, I shall ever 
 prize the gift,'' cried Editha, in accents of 
 the liveliest gratitude, and pressing the 
 tablet to her heart as she spoke. 
 
 The Princess then announced to the Lady 
 Isabel that she was about to depart. 
 
 " I would fain tarry longer with you, holy 
 mother," she said, " and profit by your dis- 
 course. But time presses. After hearing 
 mass at St. Edmond's Chapel, I shall pro- 
 ceed on my pilgrimage to Canterbury."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 79 
 
 '' All good saints watch over your Grace !" 
 exclaimed the Prioress, fervently. "And 
 may holy St. Thomas listen to your suppli- 
 cations, and grant your prayers !" 
 
 Summoned by the bell, Sister Eudoxia 
 appeared, and threw open the door of the 
 locutory ; and the Prioress, passing out with 
 her royal visitor, conducted her through 
 several passages to the entrance hall, where 
 the nuns had assembled. 
 
 All was in readiness for the Princess's de- 
 parture ; her ladies were on horseback ; her 
 palfrey was waiting for her. 
 
 The Prioress attended her to the door, 
 and tears involuntarily sprang to the saintly 
 lady's eyes, as she bade her royal visitor fare- 
 well. 
 
 However, she quickly regained her self- 
 possession, and her deportment became as 
 rigid as heretofore, and her looks austere. 
 
 By this time the Princess had mounted 
 her palfrey, and her parting look at the Lady
 
 80 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Isabel was full of significance, though the 
 latter seemed not to heed it. 
 
 All was stir and bustle in the courtyard, 
 and the noise and confusion continued until 
 the whole of the brilliant cavalcade had 
 ridden forth from the gateway. 
 
 The Prioress remained to the last moment. 
 At this juncture, Editha, who was standing 
 behind her with Sister Eudoxia, watching 
 the Princess's departure, preferred a request 
 — or, rather. Sister Eudoxia preferred it for 
 her. 
 
 " Holy mother," she said, " have I your 
 permission to take Editha to St. Edmond's 
 Chapel?" 
 
 Consent was readily given, and the young 
 damsel and the elderly nun at once set out.
 
 VIII. 
 
 or THE ROUGH RESPONSE MADE TO SIR JOHN 
 HOLLAND BY THE SMITH. 
 
 I E AN WHILE, the cavalcade pro- 
 ceeded slowly on its way, followed 
 by the villagers, who had been 
 lingering outside the priory during the 
 Princess's halt there. 
 
 As the splendid train approached the 
 green, the throng increased; little groups 
 being collected at intervals on either side of 
 the road. 
 
 But though much curiosity was evinced 
 to see the young King's mother, and the 
 Court damsels in their rich attire, the male 
 portion of the lookers-on raised no shouts, and 
 some of them even refused to doff their caps, 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Their sullen and disrespectful demeanour 
 could not fail to strike the Princess, and 
 confirmed what she had just heard. 
 
 Attended by two or three young nobles. 
 Sir John Holland rode a little in advance 
 of the cortt'f/e, and both he and his com- 
 panions cast scornful glances at the spec- 
 tators, which were well calculated to irritate 
 them in their present mood. 
 
 Gn reaching the skirts of the green, the 
 haughty young noble passed near a stalwart 
 personage, whose garb proclaimed him to 
 be a smith, and who stood there with his 
 arms folded upon his broad chest, watching 
 the procession. 
 
 The sullen expression of this man's coun- 
 tenance, and the manner in which he re- 
 turned Sir John's haughty glance, provoked 
 the young noble so much that he reined in 
 his jennet, and called out — 
 
 "Who art thou, fellow, that thou darest 
 knit thy brows at me ?"
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 83 
 
 "I am Wat Tyler, the smith, of Dart- 
 ford!" repUed the other, in a bold voice, 
 but without in any way altering his de- 
 portment. 
 
 " Doff thy bonnet, thou saucy knave !" 
 cried Sir Osbert Montacute, one of Sir 
 John's companions. "Know'st thou to 
 whom thou art speaking ?" 
 
 " I have been speaking to the King's 
 half-brother," replied Wat Tyler, resolutely; 
 " but I owe him no homage !" 
 
 " Thou shalt owe him a lesson in courtesy, 
 thou rude churl !" cried Sir John, raising 
 his riding- whip to strike hira. 
 
 But ere the wliip touched his shoulders, 
 the smith seized it and flung it to the 
 ground. 
 
 This daring act would have been punished 
 by Sir John's companions if a young damsel, 
 who was crossing the green at the moment 
 with an elderly nun, and saw what was 
 
 G— 2
 
 84 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 occurring, had not flown to the spot, and 
 interposed between the smith and the young 
 nobles. 
 
 At the same time, three or four men, 
 arrayed like minstrels, sprang forward. 
 
 "Fear nothing, Wat; we are with you !" 
 cried a voice. 
 
 "Begone, child!" said the smith, to his 
 daughter; "yoa are in the way. If any 
 one touches me, he will rue it !" 
 
 And drawing his dagger, he stood upon 
 his defence. 
 
 " No ; I will not leave you, father," cried 
 Editha. " Come with me, I beseech you !" 
 
 " Hold !" exclaimed Sir John Holland, 
 who saw that a serious disturbance was 
 likely to ensue. "Here comes our lady 
 mother." 
 
 The Princess was now close at hand, her 
 attention having been called to the affair by 
 Sister Eudoxia.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 85 
 
 At her approach the young nobles drew 
 back, and Sir John Holland appeared some- 
 what disconcerted by the severe look she 
 threw at him. 
 
 " This disturbance is most inopportune," 
 she said, in a tone of rebuke, to her son. 
 
 "'Tis not my fault," he rejoined. "The 
 knave was insolent, and deserved more 
 punishment than he has received." 
 
 " You have done wrong, I tell you ; this 
 is not the moment to quarrel with the 
 common people, but to concihate them." 
 
 " You are best able to perform that task 
 yourself, madam," muttered her son. " Had 
 you not been here, the knave would not 
 have been alive to mock us as he doth now." 
 
 "No more, I command you," said his 
 mother. 
 
 Then, addressing Editha, who was still 
 standing before her father, she said, in a 
 very gracious tone —
 
 86 MEURY ENGLAND. 
 
 "I did not expect to see you again so 
 soon, fair maiden. I tliought I had left you 
 at the priory." 
 
 " I was hastening to St. Edmond's Chapel, 
 your Grace, when " 
 
 " No matter," interrupted the Princess ; 
 " 'tis over now. This is your father, I pre- 
 sume?" she added, with a kindly look at 
 Wat, that quickly banished the cloud from 
 his brow. 
 
 Long before this, he had restored the 
 dagger to his girdle. 
 
 "Father, the Princess speaks to you," 
 said Editha, plucking his sleeve. 
 
 Thus exhorted, Wat removed his cap, 
 and made an obeisance such as he had not 
 rendered to any one for many a day. 
 
 The Princess now smiled very graciously 
 indeed ; as did also Editha, for she was well 
 pleased with her father's ready assent. 
 
 Addressing Wat Tyler^ but, at the same
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 87 
 
 time, taking care that lier words should 
 reach the ears of the other bystanders, all 
 of whom had uncovered and observed a 
 respectful demeanour, the Princess said — 
 
 "As you are aware, I am performing a 
 pilgrimage to Canterbury, and it would 
 grieve me if any untoward circumstance 
 should occur during my journe}^, so as to 
 interrupt my devotional thoughts. T have 
 learnt, from your good Prioress, with whom 
 I have just been conversing, that some 
 discontent prevails among the inhabitants 
 of this village. I am sorry to hear it. 
 But rest assured that, on my return, I will 
 speak to the King, my son ; and I doubt 
 not, if it be practicable, he will redress your 
 grievances." 
 
 While the Princess was thus speaking, 
 the crowd had greatly increased, and her 
 words and gracious manners produced a 
 marked effect upon the assemblage.
 
 88 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 But positive enthusiasm was excited 
 when she took her purse from, her girdle, 
 and, giving it to an attendant, bade him 
 distribute its contents amid the throng. 
 
 As a scramble took place for the gold 
 pieces, loud shouts arose of " Long live the 
 Princess of Wales !" and blessings were 
 heaped upon her head. 
 
 His mother's treatment of the audacious 
 smith, which he regarded as a reproof to 
 himself, was exceedingly mortifying to Sir 
 John Holland, and might have drawn some 
 angry remarks from him, had he not been 
 attracted by Editha, whose beauty greatly 
 impressed him. 
 
 He called Sir Osbert Montacute's atten- 
 tion to her, declaring he had never seen 
 any one so lovely. 
 
 " She much surpasses all our Court 
 damsels," he exclaimed. " No one can 
 compare with her."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 89 
 
 " I cannot go quite so far as that, my 
 lord," replied Sir Osbert, laughing, " But, 
 for a country maiden, I own she is passing 
 fair." 
 
 " There is nothing rustic about her," 
 said Sir John. " She looks like one of 
 Diana's nymphs." 
 
 "Or a vestal?" suggested the other. 
 
 "Ay, a vestal. She is purity itself, I'll 
 be sworn." 
 
 " Then you must not gaze at her so 
 ardently, my lord, or you will trouble her. 
 See ! she casts down her eyes, and blushes 
 deeply." 
 
 "The blush heightens lier beauty. By 
 heaven, she shall be mine ! 'Twill serve 
 her churlish father riglit to rob him of his 
 daughter." 
 
 " Beware, my lord, what you do ! She 
 must belong to the priory. One of the 
 sisterhood has just joined her."
 
 90 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " That will not deter me," returned Sir 
 John. " But an opportunity of speaking 
 with her presents itself. My mother has 
 just called her." 
 
 With this, he pushed forward, and ad- 
 dressed a few gallant remarks to the young 
 damsel, who was thanking the Princess for 
 her generosity. 
 
 Evidently alarmed, Editha made no 
 answer, but, as soon as she could do so 
 with propriety, returned to Sister Eudoxia 
 and her father. 
 
 Even then Sir John did not desist, and 
 regardless of the stern glances cast upon 
 him by the smith, he followed Editha as 
 she moved away, and continued to address 
 her with even greater freedom than before. 
 
 " A truce to this, I pray you, my lord !" 
 cried "Wat Tyler. " My daughter is not 
 accustomed to courtly compliments, neither 
 are they agreeable to me." 
 
 " I care little whether thou art pleased or
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 91 
 
 not, fellow," rejoined the haughty young 
 noble. " I am not paying compliments to 
 thy daughter, but telling her the truth. 
 Her beauty ought not to be hidden at 
 Dartford, and it were a positive crime to 
 shut her up in a convent." 
 
 " Come away, Editha," cried Sister 
 Eudoxia. " Your ears must not be defiled 
 by this unrestrained talk." 
 
 " No ; let her stay," said the smith. 
 ** She knows how to comport herself." 
 
 " Be not angry, father," whispered 
 Editha ; "I will exchange no word with 
 him." 
 
 Failing to extract a word from her, or 
 even a smile. Sir John at length departed, 
 saying, as he bade adieu, " When we meet 
 again, fair damsel, I trust you will be less 
 obdurate." 
 
 Bounding off on his impatient jennet, he 
 resumed his place at the head of the caval- 
 cade, which was already in motion.
 
 IX. 
 
 ST. EDMOND S CHAPEL. 
 
 HE bulk of the assemblage followed 
 the cortc'f/e to St. Edmond's Chapel, 
 which, as the reader is aware, was 
 situated at the further end of the village* 
 and not far from the church. 
 
 Wat Tyler thought his daughter had 
 best go home ; but as she wished to attend 
 mass, and Sister Eudoxia undertook to take 
 charge of her, he allowed her to proceed. 
 
 " After all," he said, " there is nothing to 
 fear. This insolent noble will not dare 
 molest thee in the chapel. I will go home, 
 and tell thy mother what has happened. 
 She will be uneasy." 
 
 Sister Eudoxia and Editha did not reach
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 93 
 
 the chapel till the Princess and her train 
 had gone in ; but though there was little 
 room left, the nun and her charge were 
 allowed to enter. 
 
 Completely filled by the splendidly- 
 attired Court damsels and nobles, the little 
 temple presented a superb appearance — 
 additional effect being given to the scene 
 by the lights on the altar, and the gorgeous 
 tints thrown on the assemblage from the 
 painted windows. The atmosphere was 
 heavy with incense. 
 
 Mass had begun, and the Princess was 
 kneeling at the altar. 
 
 No place being vacant near the door, 
 Sister Eudoxia and Editha were obliged to 
 move on till they reached the foremost 
 ranks, where they were enabled to kneel 
 down. 
 
 What was the young damsel's fright 
 when she found she had inadvertently
 
 94 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 placed herself next the very person she was 
 most desirous to avoid. 
 
 She did not raise her eyes, but she felt 
 his ardent gaze was fixed on her, and her 
 mind became so disturbed, that all devo- 
 tional feelings were banished, and had 
 retreat been possible, she would have 
 quitted the chapel. 
 
 Her close proximity to her dreaded neigh- 
 bour caused a tremor to run through her 
 frame, and she shrank from his slightest 
 contact. 
 
 Moreover, a strange terror seized her 
 that he was in some way mixed up with 
 her destiny, and that she should not be able 
 to escape from him if she fell into his toils. 
 
 While she was endeavouring to shake off 
 this painful idea, a low voice breathed in 
 her ear, " You are mine !" 
 
 She knew who had spoken, and her terror 
 increased.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 95 
 
 Shortly afterwards the solemn service 
 ended, and the courtly throng began to 
 quit the chapel. 
 
 Fearful of encountering her dreaded 
 neighbour's glance, she did not look up till 
 she felt sure he was gone. 
 
 When she arose, the Princess was bend- 
 ing reverently to the altar before taking her 
 departure, and allowing her to pass by, she 
 followed slowly after with Sister Eudoxia. 
 
 The Princess had noticed her, and, on 
 reaching the porch, summoned her, and 
 said, with a gracious smile — 
 
 " Eemember what I have told you. 
 Should you require my aid at any time, fail 
 not to come to me. Adieu !" 
 
 Assisted by her grooms and pages, who 
 were standing by, the royal lady then 
 mounted her palfrej^ and rode off; but she 
 was instantly succeeded by Sir John Hol- 
 land, who had lingered with Sir Osbert
 
 96 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Montacute to have a last look at the fair 
 damsel who had bewitched him. 
 
 Curbing his fiery jennet as he passed the 
 porch, he looked fixedly at Editha ; but she 
 cast down her eyes, and, provoked by her 
 coldness, he rode on. 
 
 Amid the shouts and blessings of the 
 villagers, the Princess then crossed the little 
 bridge over the Darent, and, attended by 
 her retinue and escort, mounted the hill on 
 the road to Rochester and Canterbury.
 
 THE LOMBARD MERCHANT. 
 
 OMEWHAT retarded by the im- 
 portant event described, the sports 
 now commenced on the green, 
 and were carried on merrily enough, the 
 villagers being in high good humour owing 
 to the Princess's liberality. For the time, 
 their grievances were forgotten. 
 
 There was dancing round the Maypole 
 to the blithe strains of the minstrels, mum- 
 ming, wrestling, and trials of skill with the 
 quarter-staff, resulting in several broken 
 pates. Moreover, there was much drinking 
 of Whitsun ale. 
 
 Towards evening a large party of tra- 
 vellers from London arrived at the "Bull," 
 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 98 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 and having secured lodgings for the night 
 at that comfortable and roomy hostel, took 
 part in the village festivities. 
 
 Among the new-comers was a grave - 
 looking man, in a long gown and furred 
 velvet cap. His dark complexion, aquiline 
 nose, quick black eyes, and beetling brows, 
 together with a foreign accent, showed that 
 he was not an Englishman, though he spoke 
 the language well. 
 
 Jacopo Benedetto del Treviso — for so was 
 he named, from the city of his birth — be- 
 longed to a company of wealthy Lombard 
 merchants at that time established in 
 London, who lent money on usance, like 
 the Jews, and were looked upon to be as 
 great extortioners as the Israelites them- 
 selves by those who borrowed from 
 them. 
 
 This enterprising company had recently 
 farmed the Government taxes, and collected
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 99 
 
 them with great rigour, as we have pre- 
 viously mentioned. 
 
 One of the richest members of the com- 
 pany, Messer Benedetto, exercised conside- 
 rable influence over its councils. Indeed, it 
 was he who had proposed the farming of 
 the King's taxes, by which it was expected 
 that a large sum would be realized. 
 
 Messer Benedetto lived luxuriously at his 
 house in Lombard Street, but he was care- 
 ful not to make any display when he tra- 
 velled ; neither did he carry much gold 
 about him, so that if he were robbed his 
 losses would be inconsiderable. 
 
 However, he had never yet been robbed, 
 for he always contrived to join some strong 
 party whom marauders, such as Jack Straw, 
 did not venture to attack. 
 
 On the present occasion he had started 
 early in the morning from the " Tabard" at 
 Southwark, where a rendezvous of travellers 
 
 7—2
 
 100 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 bound for Rochester and Canterbury was 
 generally held. The muster was quite 
 strong enough to insure safety. 
 
 As will be conjectured, Messer Benedetto 
 had some business on hand. At Dartford 
 he expected to meet a tax-collector named 
 Humphrey Shaxton, and he found him 
 awaiting his arrival at the " Bull." 
 
 This Shaxton had previously been em- 
 ployed by the Government, and his rough- 
 ness in the discharge of his obnoxious office 
 recommended him to Benedetto. 
 
 Eude and brutal with the lower orders, 
 Shaxton was fawning and obsequious to 
 those of higher degree. His coarse, repul- 
 sive physiognomy indicated his nature. 
 E,ed-liaired and flat-nosed, he had a long 
 upper lip and heavy chin. 
 
 Heretofore, Shaxton had worn tlie royal 
 liver}' ; but this he had now laid aside, and 
 was habited in a dark serge tunic, with an
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 101 
 
 ink horn at his girdle, and a parchment 
 account-book hanging beside it. 
 
 His red locks were covered by a felt cap, 
 turned up only at the back, and having a 
 long, projecting point. 
 
 Immediately after his arrival, Messer 
 Benedetto had a long conference in private 
 with the collector, and learnt that a good 
 deal of resistance to his demands of three 
 groats a head had been made by the 
 peasantry. 
 
 Small as the tax appeared, they were 
 very reluctant to pay it ; but Shaxton de- 
 clared he would allow none to escape — • 
 youths or maidens — unless he was satisfied 
 they were under the appointed age of 
 fifteen. 
 
 " According to their own showing, they 
 are all under age," he said ; " but they can't 
 deceive me," he added, with a coarse grin. 
 " When I demand it, the poll-tax must be
 
 102 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 forthcoming. Already, I have got a good 
 sum, as your worship will find when I make 
 up my accounts," 
 
 " I am glad to hear it," replied Bene- 
 detto. " Have you begun to make a col- 
 lection here at Dartford ?" 
 
 " Not yet, worshipful sir," said Shaxton. 
 " I must look about me, and make inquiries 
 before setting to work. It saves time and 
 trouble. I am told the villagers are very 
 angry with the tax, and some of them de- 
 clare they wont pay it. We shall see. 
 There is a smith here, named Wat Tyler — 
 an obstinate churl — who incites the people 
 to resistance. He has a very pretty daugh- 
 ter, who looks sixteen or seventeen, though 
 some say she is younger — under age, in fact. 
 But I am determined he shall pay the tax 
 for her, if only to j)lague him." 
 
 *' Eight. 'Tis best to put down such mis- 
 chievous knaves," observed Benedetto. " Be- 
 gin with this smith."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 103 
 
 " I have placed him first on my list, as 
 your worship will observe," rejoined the 
 tax-collector, opening his book. 
 
 " Has he other children liable to the im- 
 post ?" asked the merchant. 
 
 " No ; he has only this daughter," re- 
 plied Shaxton. " I would he had a dozen — 
 he should pay for them all. Most of the 
 villagers are now assembled on the green, 
 with their wives and families. If your 
 worship will be pleased to step forth, you 
 will see them, and may be able to form an 
 estimate of their numbers, and the probable 
 amount of impost they will yield." 
 
 " Come, then !" cried Benedetto. 
 
 And, followed respectfully by the tax- 
 collector, he went forth to survey the festive 
 scene.
 
 XI. 
 
 THE TAX-COLLECTOR. 
 
 HE merriment was then at its height 
 on the green. Youths and maidens 
 were disporting themselves ; vari- 
 ous pastimes were going on ; and, judging 
 from the shouts and laughter, everybody 
 seemed to be happy. 
 
 The only person who appeared out of place 
 amid such a joyous scene was the tax-col- 
 lector. Luckily, very few of the concourse 
 were aware of his ill-omened presence ; 
 so he did not disturb the general enjoy- 
 ment. 
 
 A large circle, some four or live feet deep, 
 was formed round the May-pole, and through 
 this rino; our Lombard merchant contrived 
 to penetrate, and was thus enabled to see
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 105 
 
 the dancers, who were hidden by the 
 throng. 
 
 Several of the damsels were comely, and 
 he was particularly struck by the well- 
 formed limbs of one of them. This was 
 Marjory, the milkmaid, whom Editha had 
 met earlier in the day ; and though the 
 active damsel had now been bounding round 
 the May-pole for nearly an hour, with very 
 little intermission, she did not appear half 
 so much fatigued as the swain next her. 
 
 If her object was to tire out this poor 
 youth, Marjory completely succeeded; for 
 soon afterwards he was fain to give in, and 
 she then relinquished the rope of flowers 
 which she had held so long, and retired with 
 him, flushed and panting, amid the cheers 
 and laughter of the bystanders. 
 
 Messer Benedetto withdrew at tlie same 
 time, having seen enough of the dancing, 
 and looked round for Shaxton, whom he 
 had left outside the ring.
 
 106 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 He did not see him ; but his eye alighted 
 on a sturdy individual, in the garb of a 
 smith, standing at a little distance with a 
 comely dame, and a young damsel beside 
 him. 
 
 It instantly occurred to the Lombard 
 merchant that this person must be "Wat 
 Tyler of whom the tax-collector had spoken, 
 and he therefore regarded him with a certain 
 curiosity; but his attention was quickly 
 diverted from the smith to the young 
 damsel with him, and he was gazing at her 
 with surprise and admiration, when Shaxton 
 came up. 
 
 After a word with his employer, the tax- 
 collector strode towards the smith, and, in a 
 loud and insolent voice, demanded his name. 
 
 " What is it to thee how I am called ?" 
 rejoined the other, sternly. 
 
 "Much," said Shaxton. "In virtue of 
 mine office I am empowered to interrogate
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 107 
 
 any man I think proper, and I again demand 
 tliy name and calling. Thou wilt incur a 
 penalty an' thou refusest to answer." 
 
 " Wat Tyler is my husband's name," in- 
 terposed the dame, fearing some disturbance 
 might occur. " He is a smith and ar- 
 mourer." 
 
 "Tut, wife!" cried Wat. "He knows 
 who I am Avell enough. Now, about thy 
 business, fellow ?" 
 
 " I have not yet done," said Shaxton, per- 
 tinaciously. " This maiden is thy daugh- 
 ter?" 
 
 Wat's patience was nearly exhausted, and 
 he was also enraged by the bold, offensive 
 stare with which the tax-collector regarded 
 Editha. 
 
 " Ay, ay ; she is our child," again inter- 
 posed Dame Tyler. 
 
 "Child!" exclaimed Shaxton. "By St. 
 Blaise ! she is ripening into womanhood."
 
 108 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Thou hadst best begone !" cried Wat 
 Tyler, with a look so fierce and menacing, 
 that the tax-collector deemed it prudent not 
 to provoke him further, more especially as 
 several persons had gathered round the 
 smith, and seemed disposed to take part 
 with him. 
 
 He therefore contented himself with say- 
 ing, " Thou shalt hear more from me on the 
 morrow," and marched away. 
 
 m
 
 XII. 
 
 MARK CLEAVER, ELIAS LIRIPIPE, AND JOSBERT 
 GROUTHEAD. 
 
 S Shaxton departed, Messer Bene- 
 detto came up, and said, in a bland 
 lialf-apologetic voice to Editlia, 
 " I trust the man has not been rude to you, 
 fair damsel ?" 
 
 Editha scarce made any reply, being un- 
 willing to enter into conversation with a 
 stranger, whose manner, though courteous, 
 was somewhat forward ; but her father said, 
 bluntly, "You should teach your servant 
 better manners, sir." 
 
 " My servant !" exclaimed Benedetto. 
 " Ay ; or your factor, or whatever you 
 call him," said the smith. "Unless lam
 
 110 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 much mistaken, you are one of the Lombard 
 merchants who have farmed the poll-tax, 
 and this insolent fellow is your collector." 
 
 Astounded at being addressed in this 
 manner, Benedetto glanced at the speaker, 
 but his eye sunk beneath the smith's steady 
 gaze. 
 
 " Art sure this is one of the Lombard 
 merchants, Wat?" asked a bystander, notice- 
 able for his round, rosy visage. 
 
 " As sure as I am that thou art an honest 
 butcher, Mark Cleaver," replied Wat Tyler. 
 " Let him deny it if he can. 'Tis to him 
 and his brethren, and not to the King 
 and the Grovernment, that we now pay taxes. 
 Why should we Englishmen allow ourselves 
 to be despoiled by usurious foreigners?" 
 
 " Ay, wherefore ?" cried several angry 
 voices. 
 
 "If you will listen to reason, my good 
 friends," said Benedetto, in a calm, per-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. Ill 
 
 suasive tone, " I will show that you are not 
 unjustly treated by us. "VVe did not impose 
 the taxes of which you complain.'' 
 
 "But the Government did not dare to 
 collect the taxes, or they would not have 
 sold them to you," interrupted Wat Tyler. 
 
 " The Government wanted the money im- 
 mediately, and we advanced it," said the 
 merchant. " You cannot in fairness expect 
 us to be losers by the transaction." 
 
 " You hope to be large gainers by it, I 
 doubt not," said Wat ; " but I think you 
 will find yourselves out in your reckoning. 
 'Twas a wrongful bargain, and ought never 
 to have been made !" 
 
 "Blame not us, good friends, but the 
 Government that made it," said Benedetto, 
 still in the same calm voice. " If the poll- 
 tax presses hardly ujDon you, as it may in 
 some cases, you should call upon the 
 ministers to refund the money we have paid 
 them."
 
 112 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 ;^ "You are jesting with us, master," said 
 Mark Cleaver. " I should like to see the 
 ministers refund money." 
 
 " We have been bought and sold — that is 
 quite clear," said another bystander, a little 
 man in a grey woollen jerkin and a tall, 
 conical cap. " But these Lombard mer- 
 chants and the ministers will both rue their 
 bargain." 
 
 " Thou art a brave man for a tailor, Elias 
 Liripipe," observed Wat Tyler. "Wilt 
 thou clip off this caitiff tax-collector's 
 
 0" 
 
 ears r 
 
 " Ay, marry will I — with my shears," 
 replied Liripipe, suiting the action to the 
 word. 
 
 " He shall fare worse if he comes to me," 
 cried Josbert Grouthead, the cheesemonger. 
 " I will him cut in twain as I would a Ched- 
 der cheese." 
 
 "And eat him afterwards/' observed
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 113 
 
 Benedetto, drily. " Metliinks j^ou grumble 
 more than is needful. After all, three groats 
 a head is not much. Were beauty taxable," 
 he added, to Editha, " your father ought to 
 pay twenty nobles for you. The King hath 
 no fairer damsel in his dominions. 'Tis true, 
 by St. Anthony, gainsay me who will !" 
 
 " Nay, we will none of us gainsay you,'' 
 said Liripipe, who, like his companions, was 
 somewhat appeased by the merchant's man- 
 ner ; "we are all agreed as to Editha's 
 beauty." 
 
 Satisfied with the favourable impression 
 he had produced, Messer Benedetto walked 
 off towards another part of the green. 
 
 Wat Tyler looked after him, and observed 
 to Liripipe — 
 
 " Thou art right, gossip ; these Lombard 
 merchants will rue their bargain." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 XIII. 
 
 GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 
 
 EANTI]\IE another traveller had 
 arrived at the " Bull." 
 
 He had come from Canter- 
 bury, and as he had ridden across Dartford 
 Heath, it was wonderful that he had met 
 with no molestation 'from the Outlaw and 
 his band. 
 
 In age, this traveller was between fifty 
 and sixty ; but he was still active and full 
 of vigour, and had a striking and highly 
 intellectual countenance, grave in expres- 
 sion, and lighted up by fine dark eyes. 
 
 The face was a perfect oval, the nose 
 being somewhat pronounced, but handsomely 
 formed. His dark, forked beard was still
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 115 
 
 unmixed with grey, as were his locks. His 
 frame was tall, spare, but remarkably well 
 proportioned . 
 
 He wore a dark velvet tunic, over which 
 was a loose gown, and his coif was encircled 
 by a roU of stuff like a turban, which gave 
 effect to his physiognom3^ From his girdle 
 hung a pouch, and he had a short sword by 
 his side. He wore boots of supple leather, 
 but not with the long-pointed toes pre- 
 viously described. 
 
 As the traveller rode up to the inn, Urban 
 Baldock, the host, a stout, good-humoured 
 personage, came forth to greet him. 
 
 " Your worship is welcome to Dartford," 
 he said. "Will it please you to alight ?" 
 
 " Canst thou give me a lodging, Baldock ?" 
 inquired the traveller. 
 
 " Ah, marry can I !" replied the host. 
 " The house is full ; for a large party has 
 just arrived from the ' Tabard,' at South- 
 
 8—2
 
 116 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 wark ; but your worship shall not want a 
 lodging, even if I give up my own charaber." 
 
 " Grramercy, good host !" replied the other, 
 " I would not have thee put to inconvenience 
 on my account." 
 
 " Nay, the inconvenience is nothing," said 
 Baldock. " 'Twould be a reproach to me if I 
 did not find accommodation for the renowned 
 Geoffrey Chaucer, of whom, as a poet, all 
 England is justly proud.^' 
 
 " Though thou hast not been at Court, 
 thou has learned the art of flattery, I find, 
 Baldock," said Chaucer, smiling, for he was 
 not displeased by this tribute paid to his 
 reputation. "But thou say'st thine house 
 is full. AVhom hast thou with thee?" 
 
 " They are mostly strangers," replied the 
 host, " and I have not yet learnt their 
 names. But I will inform myself anon. 
 One of them is yonder on the green. You 
 may discern him amid the crowd."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 117 
 
 " I see him," observed Chaucer, looking- 
 in the direction indicated. " 'Tis Messer 
 Benedetto, the great Lombard merchant. 
 I'll be sworn he has come here to look after 
 the collection of the poll-tax, which he and 
 his partners have farmed." 
 
 " No doubt your worship is in the right. 
 There is a rascally tax-collector in the house. 
 Would to heaven we were rid of him ! for I 
 fear he may breed some disturbance in the 
 village." 
 
 With the host's assistance, Chaucer then 
 dismounted ; and having seen his horse 
 taken to the stable and well cared for, he 
 followed Baldook to the principal guest- 
 chamber. 
 
 It was a comfortable room, with a ver}" 
 low ceiling, supported by great beams. The 
 , panels were of oak, and the furniture — 
 tables, chairs, and benches — were also of 
 oak. The bay windows were open, and 
 looked upon the green.
 
 118 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 There were no guests in the room; and 
 the seats outside the house were deserted. 
 All were watching the sports. 
 
 A good deal of noise arose from merry- 
 makers ; but the poet did not find it dis- 
 agreeable, and declined to have the windows 
 shut. 
 
 " What will your worship please to take 
 for supper?" inquired the host. " I have a 
 cold capon, and a cold ham, and a famous 
 cold pasty ; and I can fry you some noble 
 crimson trout from the Darent, or silver 
 eels, as you may like best, and I can add a 
 dish of rare cray-fish, from the Cray." 
 
 " Give me the trout and the capon,-*' 
 replied Chaucer. "' And, hark ye, while you 
 are preparing supper, bring me a flask of 
 red Gascoigne wine and a manchet." 
 
 The host then disappeared, and the poet, 
 left alone, leaned partly out of the window, 
 to survey the pleasant scene.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 119 
 
 And now a word about him. 
 
 Born in London in 1328, Geoffrey 
 Chaucer, at the period of our story, was 
 fifty -four; but, as we have already shown, 
 he carried his years bravely. He was said 
 to be of noble extraction ; and it can, at 
 least, be declared of him with certainty that 
 he looked well born. 
 
 Since the Conquest, all the poetry of the 
 country had been written in Norman-French, 
 then the dominant lans^uage ; but while he 
 was a student at Cambridge, and not more 
 than eighteen, Chaucer made his first essay 
 with an English poem, which, from its 
 novelty, as well as from its beauty, obtained 
 an immense success, and won for him the 
 proud title he has ever since borne of " The 
 Father of Enghsh Poetry." 
 
 Subsequently, Chaucer became a page at 
 the Court of Edward III., and was speedily 
 taken into favour by that monarch's second
 
 120 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 son, Jolm of Gaunt, the ambitious Duke of 
 Lancaster. It was at this time that Chaucer 
 wedded Phihppa, sister of the Lady 
 Catherine Swynford, to whom the Duke of 
 Lancaster was secretly attached, and whom 
 he ultimately married. 
 
 During all this period the poet had been 
 adding to his laurels. Appointed envoy to 
 the republic of Genoa, he had an oppor- 
 tunity of visiting Petrarch; and on his re- 
 turn from this embassy, and from a mission 
 to Charles V. of France, he received the 
 lucrative appointment of Controller of the 
 Customs. A butt of sack was not bestowed 
 upon him, as on Poets-Lam*eate in after- 
 days, but a goblet of wine was brought him 
 each day by the King's cup-bearer. 
 
 Chaucer next followed Edward into France, 
 and was present at the unsuccessful siege of 
 Eheims. Influenced by the example of the 
 Duke of Lancaster, with whom he was now
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 121 
 
 connected by marriage, the poet embraced 
 the doctrines of Wycliffe, and thereby 
 incurred the enmity of the clergy and their 
 partisans. 
 
 On the accession of Richard II., so long 
 as the Duke of Lancaster swayed his royal 
 nephew's councils, Chaucer was in high 
 favour at Court ; but as the Duke's influence 
 declined, the poet was neglected, and he had 
 retired in disgust shortly before his intro- 
 duction to the reader- 
 
 Amid his varied occupations — embassies, 
 conflicts with the clergy, and political in- 
 trigues — Chaucer had found time to pro- 
 duce several most exquisite poems ; but his 
 greatest achievement, " The Canterbury 
 Talcs," which raised him to the highest 
 pinnacle of fame, and has maintained him 
 there ever since, was not accomplished till 
 some years later. 
 
 While the poet was gazing through the
 
 122 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 window, cliarmed by the beauty of the 
 evening, amused by the scene, and allowing 
 various fancies to flit through his mind, he 
 became aware of a young damsel, who was 
 passing across the green sufficiently near to 
 enable him to judge of her beauty. 
 
 So lovely, so graceful was she, that his 
 eyes followed her as she moved along, and 
 he almost refused to believe that the middle- 
 aged dame who accompanied her, and evi- 
 dently belonged to the lower class, could be 
 her mother. 
 
 But as the host appeared at the moment 
 with the manchet and wine, he questioned 
 him, and learnt, to his infinite surprise, that 
 the fair damsel was the daughter of Wat 
 Tyler, the smith. 
 
 " How so rough a fellow came to have a 
 daughter so fair and gentle puzzles me, but 
 so it is," said Baldock. " The villagers 
 think so highly of Editha's beauty,
 
 THE INSURRKCTION. 123 
 
 that they call her the Fair Maid of 
 Kent." 
 
 " And she deserves the appellation," ob- 
 served Chaucer. 
 
 " She is now going to the priory," pur- 
 sued the host. "She attends matins and 
 vespers each day. Lady Isabel, the Prioress, 
 takes much notice of her." 
 
 " The fair damsel brings to mind her own 
 youth and beauty, no doubt," said Chaucer. 
 " Lovelier creature was never seen than the 
 Lady Isabel Caversham. I well remember 
 her. She had many lovers, and amongst 
 them was one noble knight whom she pre- 
 ferred to all the rest. But he proved false, 
 forswore her to wed another, and she 
 buried herself in this nunnery." 
 
 " I have heard something of the story 
 before," remarked Baldock. " But the scan- 
 dalous gossips hinted at the time that the 
 noble knight you mention had deeply be- 
 trayed her."
 
 124 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Believe not the tale, good host," said 
 Chaucer. 
 
 " Nay ; it has long since been forgotten, 
 I trust," rejoined Baldock. "Any faults 
 the Prioress may have committed have been 
 expiated, I make no doubt, by severe 
 penance. She is worn to a skeleton by 
 constant mortification of the flesh. The 
 Princess of Wales, who is performing a pil- 
 grimage to Canterbury, has been here 
 to-day, and paid the holy mother a 
 visit." 
 
 " I met the Princess and her train near 
 Eochester," said Chaucer. " But I had no 
 converse with her Grace. I am curious 
 to have another look at the smith's fair 
 daughter, in whom, as you say, the good 
 Prioress takes so much interest." 
 
 " Nay; if your worship desires it, that can 
 be readily accomplished," replied Baldock. 
 " You have but to walk towards the prior}^.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 125 
 
 and you will meet lier returning from 
 vespers." 
 
 While this discourse was going on, 
 Chaucer had eaten a few mouthfuls of bread, 
 and drank a cup of wine. 
 
 He now rose, and bidding the host keep 
 back supper for an hour, went forth, and 
 proceeded to the priory.
 
 XIV. 
 
 SEDITIOUS TALK BENEATH THE OAK. 
 
 HAUCER'S noble countenance and 
 gravity of manner inspired respect, 
 and caps were doffed as he passed 
 through the concourse on the green ; but 
 no one ventured to address him except one 
 stalwart individual, who separated him- 
 self from the throng, and strode towards 
 him. 
 
 The poet stopped, and courteously awaited 
 the man^s approach. 
 
 "Master Geoffrey Chaucer will scarcely 
 recollect me," said the burly fellow, doffing 
 his cap ; " but I well remember seeing him 
 when he was in France with the late King 
 and the Duke of Lancaster. I was then
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 127 
 
 an archer in the train of Sir Eustace de 
 Valletort." 
 
 *' Ha ! I mind thee well ! Thou wert 
 the stoutest archer Sir Eustace had ; but I 
 cannot recollect thy name." 
 
 " I am called Wat Tyler, and am now a 
 smith in this village," replied the other. 
 
 " Wat Tyler, say'st thou ?" exclaimed 
 Chaucer, regarding him in surprise. " How 
 long hast thou dwelt here ?" 
 
 " Nigh sixteen years," replied Wat. 
 
 " Then thou wert here before the Lady 
 Isabel retired to the nunnery?" 
 
 " I had married, and had set up as a 
 smith about a twelvemonth before that 
 event," said Wat. 
 
 " I thought so," mentally ejaculated 
 Chaucer. 
 
 He then added aloud, " Had thy lord ful- 
 filled his vow, the Lady Isabel might now 
 adorn a Court, instead of wearing away her
 
 128 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 life in a cloister. Nor do I think Sir Eustace 
 is happy." 
 
 " Mayhap his conscience afflicts him," 
 observed Wat. 
 
 A momentary silence ensued, which was 
 broken by Chaucer. 
 
 " Just now," he said, " as I was gazing 
 from the window of the inn, mine eyes were 
 greeted by a vision of exceeding beauty. 
 'Twas not a fairy, nor a nymph, that I 
 beheld, but a young damsel ; and I was told 
 by the host that she was the daughter of 
 Wat Tyler, the smith." 
 
 " My daughter !" exclaimed Wat. " You 
 greatly overrate her beauty, worshipful sir." 
 
 " ^ot a whit. 'Tis true I caught only 
 a momentary glimpse of her, but she ap- 
 peared to me the fairest maiden mine eyes 
 ever lighted on. However, I must needs 
 see her again, to make sure." 
 
 " Editha is gone to vespers at the priory,
 
 thp: insurrection. 129 
 
 or I would beg you to step into my cot- 
 tage. She would esteem it a great honour 
 to converse with the famous Master Geoffrey 
 Chaucer." 
 
 " Walk with me towards the prior3^ Per- 
 chance we may meet her," said Chaucer, 
 
 As they went on together, the conversa- 
 tion dropped, and the poet seemed occupied 
 by his reflections. 
 
 From time to time Wat Tyler stole a 
 glance at him, but did not make a remark. 
 
 They had now quitted the village, and 
 entered an avenue leading to the prioiy. 
 Halting beneath a fine old oak, which 
 threw its mighty branches across the road, 
 Chaucer said to his companion, " Art thou 
 aWycliffite?" 
 
 " Truly am I," replied Wat. " 1 am a 
 friend of the Franciscan friar, John Ball, who 
 is now imprisoned for preaching Wycliffe's 
 doctrines." 
 
 VOL. I. 9
 
 130 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " I saw John Ball while I was at Canter- 
 bur}^, and he spoke to me obscurely, as if he 
 believed a religious insurrection to be at 
 hand." 
 
 " If an insurrection takes place, it will 
 not be merely against the clergy," said 
 Wat. " Before the abuses of the Church 
 are reformed, the grievances of [the people 
 must be redressed." 
 
 " The ecclesiastical hierarchy must be 
 abolished," said Chaucer. 
 
 " Serfdom destroyed, and property equally 
 divided amongst all," added Wat. 
 
 " Nay, I cannot go so far with thee as 
 that," rejoined Chaucer. " And be not led 
 away by idle talk. Property never will be 
 in common. Thus much I can tell thee, 
 and thou mayst repeat it to thy fellows, if 
 thou wilt : had not the Duke of Lancaster 
 been thwarted — ay, constantly thwarted — 
 in his plans for the people's benefit, most of
 
 THE INSURRECTION. J.31 
 
 their grievances would by this time have 
 been remedied." 
 
 " I can easily understand why you should 
 endeavour to justify the Duke of Lancaster, 
 sir," rejoined Wat Tyler, boldly. " But his 
 Grace has lost the people's confidence, and 
 will never regain it." 
 
 " How? — never regain it ?" cried Chaucer. 
 
 " He is known to be ambitious, and they 
 think he aims at the Crown. I must speak 
 plainl}^" rejoined Wat. " The people will 
 not help him to dethrone his nephew — son 
 of the Black Prince." 
 
 " He does not need their aid for any such 
 rebellious design !" said Chaucer, in a tone 
 of stern rebuke. " Great wrong is done him 
 by the foul suspicion. The Duke is the 
 firmest supporter of the Throne." 
 
 " But is he not mistrusted by his royal 
 nephew — greatly mistrusted?" observed Wat 
 Tyler. 
 
 9—2
 
 ]32 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " The Duke hath many enemies, avowed 
 and secret, and I know not what false asser- 
 tions concerning him may have been made by 
 the latter to the King ; but this I wot well, 
 Eichard hath not a more loyal and devoted 
 subject than his uncle, John of Gaunt." 
 
 "Loyal the Duke may be; but 'tis certain 
 he is aspiring, and the people like him 
 not." 
 
 " Would they like any Prince ?" demanded 
 Chaucer, sceptically. " AVould they follow 
 any leader but one of themselves ?" 
 
 " Time will show," rejoined Wat Tyler, 
 with a feeling of self-exultation. 
 
 " Thou thinkst we are on the eve of an 
 insurrection — eh?" cried Chaucer, fixing a 
 searching look upon him. 
 
 " Nay, I say not that," rejoined the other; 
 " but I affirm that the people are resolved to 
 obtain a hearing." 
 
 " And 1 tell thee again there is no one
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 1 33 
 
 who can obtain a hearing for them, unless 
 it be the Duke of Lancaster." 
 
 Wat Tyler shook his head. 
 
 " They fear lest they should be betrayed," 
 he said. " They think the Duke will use 
 them for his own purpose ; and that gained, 
 will sacrifice them." 
 
 "The rising will be instantly crushed 
 without his support," cried Chaucer. 
 
 " I do not think so," rejoined Wat Tyler. 
 
 All this time there had been a secret 
 listener to their discourse. 
 
 Behind a neighbouring tree was ensconced 
 the tax-collector, who had followed them 
 cautiously from the green. 
 
 Not a word uttered by either speaker had 
 escaped Shaxton's quick ears. Having now 
 heard enough, he prepared to decamp. 
 
 " 'Twas lucky I followed them," he 
 thought. " I have learnt a most important 
 secret, which I can turn to profit, by reveal-
 
 134 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 ing it to the Council. Evidently an in- 
 surrection of the people is about to burst 
 forth. Wat Tyler is concerned in it, and 
 Master Geoffrey Chaucer is now privy to it ; 
 if, indeed, he be not, as I suspect, one of the 
 chief contrivers. Both must be arrested. 
 I will consult with Messer Benedetto. No ; 
 that were unwise — as, if he takes the matter 
 in hand, I shall lose the reward. I must 
 proceed cautiously. What if I were to send 
 a message to the Lord Mayor, and Sir John 
 Philpot ! I will do it, if I can find a trusty 
 messenger. But — hist ! I hear footsteps ! 
 Some one comes this way, I must be gone." 
 With this he stole noiselessly away, en- 
 tirely escaping the notice of the two persons 
 in his vicinity.
 
 XV. 
 
 WHAT PASSED BETWEEN CHAUCER AND EDITHA. 
 
 HE footsteps that had alarmed the 
 spy were those of Editha and her 
 mother, who were returning from 
 the priory. 
 
 Wat Tyler pointed them out to the poet, 
 but Chaucer did not require to be told who 
 they were, for he instantly recognised the 
 fair young damsel. 
 
 The pair quickened their pace as soon as 
 they descried the smith, and presently came 
 up. But they stopped at a short distance 
 till called forward. 
 
 Chaucer did not embarrass the young 
 damsel by regarding her too steadfastly ; 
 but, nevertheless, his gaze threw her into
 
 136 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 some confusion, and covered her fair clieek 
 with blushes. 
 
 Whatever inference he drew from this 
 rapid but close inspection of her features, he 
 allowed no sign to escape him. 
 
 " This is Master Geoffrey Chaucer, child," 
 said Wat Tyler, in a low tone, to his daughter. 
 
 The mention of that name operated like 
 magic on Editha, and seemed instantly to 
 dispel her timidity. 
 
 Raising her eyes, she gazed at the poet 
 with mingled reverence and admiration. 
 
 " By St. Anselm ! she is very like the 
 Lady Isabel," thought Chaucer. 
 
 " Pardon my boldness," cried Editha ; " I 
 did not think I should ever behold Master 
 Geoffrey Chaucer, and I cannot repress my 
 delight at seeing him. Till now I thought 
 he could be no mortal man !" 
 
 " Then, I fear, you must be grievously 
 disappointed," observed Chaucer.
 
 TBE INSURRECTION. 137 
 
 " Disappointed ! — no ! I liave hitherto re- 
 garded you as a superior being, whom I 
 should not dare to address." 
 ^ " But you have no such feeling now, I 
 trust?" he said. 
 
 " No," she rephed ; " you look so good- 
 natured that I will venture to tell you 
 that I have read ' The Court of Love," and 
 ' Troilus and Cressida,' and will try to ex- 
 press the pleasure those poems have given 
 me. 
 
 " My daughter is never tired of reading 
 your poems, worshipful sir," observed Dame 
 Tyler. 
 
 " They afford me fresh delight every time 
 I turn to them," cried Editha. 
 
 " I did not anticipate this gratification," 
 remarked Chaucer. "Many compliments 
 have been paid me, many flattering things 
 have been said to me by Court dames, but 
 none that have pleased me so much as 3'ou
 
 138 MERRY ENGLAND. , 
 
 simple praise, for I am willing- to believe it 
 the language of truth." 
 
 " It is so/' cried Eclitha, earnestly. 
 
 Wat Tyler forbore to take any part in 
 this conversation, but he listened to it well 
 pleased, and when a proposal was made b}' 
 Chaucer to return with the party to the 
 village, the smith fell back with his wife, 
 and allowed the poet and Editha to precede 
 them. 
 
 Chaucer evidently took a lively interest 
 in his young companion, which could not 
 fail to gratify her, and she replied to all 
 his questions with the most perfect can- 
 dour and simplicity. 
 
 She told him of the constant kindnesses 
 she had received from the good Prioress, 
 and how warmly attached she was to her. 
 At this he did not seem at all surprised, 
 but he counselled her not to become a 
 novice without due consideration.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 139 
 
 Neither did he seem surprised wlien she 
 told him of the notice that the Princess of 
 Wales had taken of her that morning ; but 
 he said she was wrong not to accept the 
 Princess's gracious offer of a place in her 
 Highness' household. 
 
 He looked very grave, however, when in- 
 formed of the annoyance she had experienced 
 from Sir John Holland. 
 
 " I strongly commend your prudence," he 
 said. "You treated the insolent young 
 noble as he deserved, and I trust you may 
 never behold him again," 
 
 " But his last words, whispered in St. 
 Edmond's chantry, seemed to intimate that 
 he meant not to desist from pursuing me," 
 she said. " He terrifies me." 
 
 " If you have any real uneasiness, men- 
 tion the matter to the Prioress, and she will 
 advise you how to act." 
 
 " I have already done so, and she has
 
 140 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 promised to send a message to the Princess 
 of Wales." 
 
 " Then you may rest easy," he rejoined. 
 " Your persecutor will trouble you no 
 more."
 
 XVI. 
 
 THE EREMITE. 
 
 HEY liad now nearly reached the 
 end of the avenue, when a friar 
 was seen approaching from a side 
 path. 
 
 His long, grey gown almost covered his 
 bare feet, and his cowl was drawn over the 
 back of his head. A cord was tied round 
 his waist, and from this girdle hung a long 
 string of beads. A white beard added to 
 his venerable appearance. 
 
 " 'Tis Friar Gawin, the eremite," ob- 
 served Editha. " He is going from his cell 
 to the priory." 
 
 " Where is the hermitage ?" inquired 
 Chaucer.
 
 142 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 "Not far hence, in the wood," she re- 
 joined. " I pray you to excuse me, sir. I 
 think, from the holy father's manner, that 
 he desires to speak to me." 
 
 Chaucer bowed, and walked slowly on ; 
 and by the time Wat Tyler and his wife 
 had joined Editha, the hermit came up. 
 
 " Dominus vobiscum !" he exclaimed. 
 " Ye are well met. I have something to 
 say to thee, daughter,'"' he added, to Editha, 
 " but I cannot say it now. Prithee bring 
 her to my cell this evening," he continued 
 to Dame Tyler, 
 
 " Shall I do so ?" said the dame, appeal- 
 ing: to her husband. 
 
 " Ay, marry," he replied ; " wherefore 
 not ? — the moon rises early." 
 
 " Come with them, an thou wilt, brother," 
 said the hermit to Wat. " Thou canst wait 
 outside my cell." 
 
 "Nay; I am not afraid!" rejoined the 
 smith. " No one will molest them. As
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 143 
 
 soon as the moon hatli risen — and that will 
 he about the ninth hour — joii may expect 
 them, father." 
 
 " I shall not detain them long," replied 
 the hermit. " I have not much to say — 
 hut it must he said to-night." 
 
 " I hope you mean not to reprove me for 
 any fault I have committed, father ?" said 
 Editha. 
 
 " You will learn in good time, daughter," 
 replied the hermit. " At the ninth hour I 
 shall expect you. The taper burning in the 
 window of my cell will guide you through 
 the gloom. You need have no fear. There 
 are no evil things near my abode. All good 
 saints have you in their keeping !" 
 
 AVith this valediction, he pursued his way 
 to^the priory. 
 
 They did not overtake Chaucer till he had 
 entered the village, and was close by the 
 smith's habitation, 
 
 " I am now going to supper at the inn,"
 
 144 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 he observed to Wat. " When I have finished 
 my meal, I should like to see you again." 
 
 '' I will be with your worship in an hour," 
 replied the smith. 
 
 " Shall I tell you how I shall pass the 
 time while you are at supper ?" said Editha, 
 playfully, to the poet. 
 
 " Profitably, I am sure," he replied. 
 " Very likely in reading your mass-book." 
 
 " Of a sooth, I shall pass the time pro- 
 fitably," she replied, with an arch look. 
 " But it will be in reading your ' Court of 
 Love.' " 
 
 And, with a gay laugh, she retreated to 
 her father's dwelling. 
 
 Chaucer watched her till she disappeared, 
 and then went on to the hostel. 

 
 XVII. 
 
 MYSTERIOUS TRAVELLERS ARRIVE AT THE 
 HOSTEL. 
 
 N the principal room there were 
 several guests, most of whom rose 
 to return the poet's salutation as 
 he entered. 
 
 A cover had been laid for him on a small 
 table near the window, which was still left 
 open, and to this pleasantly-placed table the 
 host conducted him with some little cere- 
 mony, for Master Baldock was rather proud 
 of his distinguished guest. 
 
 "I hope the trout may not be overdone," 
 he said, in an apologetic tone ; " for your 
 worship hath stayed a little beyond your 
 time, and tlie cook could not take them out 
 
 VOL. I. 10
 
 146 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 of tlie frying-pan. 'Twould be a thousand 
 pities if tliey were, for finer fish never came 
 out of the Darent." 
 
 He would have run on in this strain, had 
 not Chaucer cut him short ; and when the 
 trout were phiced before the poet, he pro- 
 nounced them excellent. 
 
 " Never did I taste better fish," he said, 
 as he swallowed a deep draught of the Gas- 
 coigne vintage. 
 
 Having begun thus satisfactorily, he con- 
 tinued his repast with deliberation. 
 
 The room, as we have said, was well-nigh 
 filled with guests, some of whom were 
 supping, while others were quaffing Gaillac 
 or Osey out of tall drinking-cups. 
 
 But there was more company outside than 
 within the room. The benches in front of 
 the window at which Chaucer was seated 
 were occupied by villagers, who had been 
 enjoying the sports on the green, and were
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 147 
 
 now indulging in copious draughts of ale 
 and metheglin. 
 
 Large flagons of these beverages were set 
 on the long narrow tables before them, and 
 were speedily emj)tied, and as speedily re- 
 plenished. 
 
 The revelry was somewhat noisy, but it 
 was quite good-humoured. The minstrels, 
 who had played at the May-pole, were 
 among the company, enlivening them with 
 their strains, and now and then with a song. 
 
 Chaucer very much enjoyed the scene, and 
 the uproarious merriment that occasionally 
 arose did not in the slightest degree disturb 
 him. 
 
 But he did experience some annoyance 
 from an ill-favoured fellow, witli red locks, 
 and an unpleasant expression of counte- 
 nance, whose eye was constantly upon 
 him. 
 
 On inquiring who this individual was 
 
 10—2
 
 148 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 from the host, he learnt that he was Shaxton, 
 the tax-collector. 
 
 To return to the guests in the room. 
 Among them at the next table to Chaucer 
 sat Messer Benedetto ; and as the Lombard 
 merchant and the poet were previously ac- 
 quainted, a good deal of conversation 
 naturally took place between them. 
 
 But their discourse was on general topics. 
 Messer Benedetto made no allusion to the 
 object of his visit to Dartford ; nor did 
 Chaucer mention what had brought him 
 thither. 
 
 Even when the host spoke of Shaxton, 
 Messer Benedetto did not care to own that 
 the impudent tax-collector was in his em- 
 ploy. 
 
 Later on, however, when Wat Tyler 
 made his appearance, the Lombard merchant 
 turned away, and began to talk to those on 
 his other side.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 149 
 
 The burly smith did not enter the room, 
 but stationed himself near the window ; and 
 thus placed, he could converse as freely with 
 the poet as if he had been inside. 
 
 Shaxton made another attempt to listen 
 to their discourse ; but Wat's angry looks 
 soon drove him away. 
 
 It had ah-eady become dusk, when some 
 excitement was caused by the arrival of 
 three well-mounted travellers, who came 
 from the direction of Rochester. 
 
 They reined in their palfreys when they 
 reached the inn, and gazed into the door- 
 way in quest of an attendant to take their 
 orders. 
 
 So muffled up were these persons in their 
 hoods, and so enveloped in their mantles, 
 that little could be discerned either of feature 
 or figure ; but they seemed young, and 
 certainly, from the haughtiness of their 
 manner, might be presumed to be noble.
 
 150 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Before tliey could alight, the host went 
 out to them, and, with many obsequious 
 bows, expressed his deep regret that he could 
 not offer them a lodging, inasmuch as his 
 house was quite full. 
 
 " We do not require a lodging," replied 
 one of them, who appeared to be the chief 
 of the party, in a haughty tone. " We 
 merely need a draught of wine." 
 
 " That you can have, and of the best, 
 noble sirs," replied Baldock. "Gascoigne 
 or Ehenish, Gaillac or Osey. Will it please 
 you to alight ?" 
 
 The horseman, however, declined ; but 
 bade him bring a flagon of good Gascoigne 
 wine. 
 
 "Stay!" cried another of the party. 
 " Where can I find a smith ? My horse 
 hath cast a shoe." 
 
 " The smith can be readily found, for he 
 is here at this moment," replied Baldock.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 151 
 
 " But I cannot answer that he will do the 
 job — 'tis somewhat late, and he may have 
 closed his smithy." 
 
 " I will pay him double — nay, treble. I 
 would not have my charger lamed for a 
 hundred crowns," cried the other. 
 
 " I will tell him what you say," replied 
 the host, hurrying off. 
 
 Presently he returned with a large flagon 
 of wine and a drinking cup. 
 
 " Wat Tyler, the smith, will attend you 
 anon, noble sir," he said, filling the cup, and 
 offering it to the one whom he took to be 
 the chief of the party. 
 
 " Here is he, to speak for himself," added 
 Baldock, as the stalwart smith could be seen 
 making his way towards them through the 
 villagers. 
 
 At this intimation, two of the party turned 
 away their horses' heads, while the third 
 pushed forward to meet the smith.
 
 152 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Your horse wants a shoe, I understand?" 
 said Wat. 
 
 " Ay," replied the other. " Name thy 
 fee." 
 
 " A groat for every nail, and three groats 
 for the shoe," repHed Wat. " My smithy is 
 close at hand ; I shall be ready by the time 
 you have drunk a cup of wine." 
 
 So saying, he strode off.
 
 XVIII. 
 
 THE SMITH AT THE SMITHY 
 
 N arriving at the smithy, Wat threw 
 open the door, and divesting him- 
 self of hood and surcoat, and 
 pulling up the sleeves of his jerkin, seized 
 the bellows with a vigorous arm, and soon 
 blew up a flame in the forge. 
 
 None of his men were there, but he did 
 not need their aid, and in a few minutes 
 the glowing iron was ringing on the 
 anvil. 
 
 By this time he expected that the young- 
 noble who had commanded his services 
 would have appeared ; but, seeing nothing 
 of him, he paused in his task to listen. 
 
 No sound was heard except the distant
 
 154 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 shouts and laughter of the revellers at the 
 hostel. 
 
 He did not, however, doubt for a moment 
 that the nobleman would come, and con- 
 trolled his impatience as well as he could. 
 
 But five minutes more elapsed, and he 
 then resolved to wait no longer. 
 
 " I will not shoe his horse now if he will 
 give me a golden mark for the job !" he 
 muttered. " These nobles think that a base 
 mechanic must needs bide their pleasure ; 
 but this springal shall find his mistake — 
 pest on them all !'* 
 
 With this he quenched the iron he had 
 heated, resumed his hood and surcoat, 
 and prepared to shut up the smithy. 
 
 The moon had now risen above the trees 
 near the priory, and, by the light her beams 
 afforded, he could plainly perceive a small 
 party of horsemen galloping towards him 
 across the broad, green area.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 155 
 
 At first he fancied these must be the 
 young nobles he had expected, but he 
 quickly changed his opinion. As the party 
 drew nearer, he could not doubt, from their 
 garb and accoutrements, that tliey were the 
 Outlaw and some of his band. 
 
 He had scarcely recovered from the sur- 
 prise into which he was thrown by their 
 unexpected appearance wlien they came 
 up. 
 
 " What brings thee here to-night ?" he 
 called out, in an angry voice, as Jack Straw 
 reined in his black steed at the door of the 
 smithy. " Say what thou hast to say, and 
 begone. Many eyes are upon thee," he 
 added, pointing to the assemblage at the 
 hostel. 
 
 " By St. Nicholas ! thou shouklst thank, 
 not blame me, seeing that I have come to 
 aid thee," rejoined the Outhiw. " Where is 
 thy daughter?"
 
 156 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 "My daughter! what of her?" cried the 
 smith. " Ah ! my mind misgives me !" 
 
 " Is she safe within thy dwelHng ?" de- 
 manded the Outlaw. 
 
 " She is gone with her mother to the 
 hermitage in the wood," rephed Wat, trem- 
 bling with anxiety. " Fool that I was to 
 allow her to go there at such an hour, but I 
 dreamed of no peril." 
 
 " Answer me one more question," said 
 the Outlaw. " Hath there been a young 
 noble here with two attendants ?" 
 
 " He came to the inn not half an hour 
 ago, and he, and those with him, have since 
 disappeared," replied Wat. 
 
 " I know where they are gone," said the 
 Outlaw. " This daring noble means to carry 
 off thy daughter, but I trust I am in time to 
 rescue her. Thou art the dupe of a clever 
 stratagem, Wat, which might have suc- 
 ceeded had I not chanced to hear of it."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 157 
 
 " I see it all now !" cried the smith, al- 
 most frenzied with rage and anxiety. 
 " That false hermit ! but he shall pay dearly 
 for his treachery ! Tarry not another in- 
 stant ! To the rescue ! — to the rescue !" 
 
 The Outlaw did not require more urging, 
 but dashed off with his followers to the 
 wood.
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE HERMITAGE, 
 
 DITIIA and her mother set out for 
 the hermitage without the slightest 
 
 They could entertain no suspicion of Friar 
 Grawin, who was well known to them, and 
 who bore a high reputation for sanctity. 
 Nor were they at all alarmed by the idea of 
 a walk at so late an hour through the 
 wood. 
 
 Familiar with the path that led to the 
 cell, they could track it as readily in the 
 gloom as in broad daylight, and had no fear 
 whatever of molestation. 
 
 The walk through the wood proved de- 
 lightful, as they had anticipated ; and before
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 159 
 
 they readied their destinatioD, the moon had 
 risen, and showed them the hermit's soUtary 
 abode, situated in the midst of a clearing. 
 
 With the moonbeams shining upon it, 
 the hermitage looked the picture of seclusion 
 and peace. It was nothing more than a 
 hut, rudely constructed by the recluse's own 
 hand, with timber he himself had felled on 
 the spot. The roof was thatched and over- 
 grown with moss. 
 
 Near the door was placed a crucifix, com- 
 posed of pieces of a j)ii^e-tree nailed to- 
 gether. 
 
 Not far from the cell there was a clear, 
 gushing spring, which was of great benefit 
 to the anchorite, and had probably deter- 
 mined him in the choice of the spot. 
 
 He was standing at the door of his cell 
 when the pair arrived, and came forth to 
 give them his benediction ; after which he 
 took them inside.
 
 160 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 A taper lighted np the little apartment 
 into which they were ushered. The furni- 
 ture consisted of a rudely fashioned table, on 
 which stood an hour-glass, and three or four 
 stools of equally rough workmanship. 
 
 In one corner was a small crucifix, and in 
 an inner room was the pallet on which the 
 anchorite stretched his limbs. 
 
 Bidding his visitors be seated, the hermit 
 took a small casket from his gown, placed 
 it on the table, and thus addressed 
 Editha :— 
 
 " I have a singular circumstance to relate 
 to you, daughter," he said. " This evening, 
 while I was reciting the Credo, there came a 
 messenger to my cell ; and, opening the 
 door, said to me, ' Arise, holy father ! Go 
 to the smith's daughter, Editha, and bid her 
 come to thy cell an hour after sunset.' 
 * Wherefore should I do this ?' I demanded, 
 in surprise. ' Thou art a stranger to me.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. IGl 
 
 and mayst have some evil design. I will 
 not bear thy message to the damsel." * Dis- 
 miss thy fears,' said the man. ' No ill will 
 befall her. On the contrary, she will receive 
 a gift. In proof whereof, I now deliver to 
 thee this casket ; which I charge thee to 
 place in her own hands.' ' But why make 
 so much mystery?' I rejoined, hesitating to 
 take the casket. * Why not deliver it to her 
 thyself?' * I do mine errand,' replied the 
 man ; ' and if the noble lady from whom I 
 come chooses to act thus, 'tis not for me to 
 disobey her. I am a servant, and must do 
 as I am bidden.' * Since thou comest from 
 a lady, that alters the case,' I said. ' But 
 may I not know her name ?' ' I am enjoined 
 to secrecy,' said the man ; ' but thou shalt 
 learn her name hereafter.' " 
 
 " You shall learn it now, good fatlier," 
 cried Editha, who had listened with great 
 interest to the narration. " 'Tis the Princess 
 
 VOL. I. 11
 
 162 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 of Wales ! None but her Grace could have 
 sent me this rich gift." 
 
 " She has sent it in a roundabout way," 
 observed Dame Tyler, who was not alto- 
 gether free from suspicion. " Besides, she 
 has already made you one present." 
 
 "Here is the casket, daughter," said the 
 hermit, presenting it to the young damsel. 
 " When I learnt that it came from a noble 
 lady, I no longer hesitated ; but took it, and 
 promised to fulfil the messenger's injunc- 
 tions." 
 
 " I cannot find words to express my obli- 
 gations to you, holy father," said Editha. 
 " But the casket is unfastened. Let us see 
 what it contains." 
 
 And as she spoke, she opened the little 
 box, and took out a chain of pearls. 
 
 " Pearls !" she exclaimed, holding them 
 up. " Look, mother, liow beautiful they 
 are!
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 163 
 
 " Beautiful, indeed !" cried Dame Tyler, 
 gazing at tliem with admiration. 
 
 " In good sooth they are costly orna- 
 ments !" said the hermit, holding up the 
 taper, so that he could see them better. 
 
 " They are too costly for me!" said Editha, 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Nay ; you must needs wear them, since 
 they have been sent you by the Princess," 
 remarked her mother. 
 
 " But how know I she has sent them to 
 me ?" said the damsel. " 'Tis a mere guess. 
 This chain puzzles me." 
 
 " Keep it till you hear more about it," 
 said Dame Tyler. 
 
 " I will keep it till I have consulted the 
 Lady Prioress," observed Editha, replacing 
 the pearls in the box. 
 
 " Ay, the Prioress will give you good 
 counsel," said the hermit. " But I see not 
 why you should not wear them." 
 
 11—2
 
 164 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Nor I," rejoined Dame Tyler. " Mean- 
 wliile, I will take care of the casket." 
 
 And she secured it in her pocket. 
 
 Just then a tap at the little window of 
 the cell startled them all.
 
 XX. 
 
 SHOWING WHO SENT THE CASKET. 
 
 OLY Mary! what is that?" ex- 
 claimed the anchorite. 
 He then called out, in a voice 
 loud enough to be heard by the person 
 outside, " Who wants the hermit of 
 the wood? I open not my door to a 
 stranger !" 
 
 " 'Tis the messenger who brought the 
 casket this e'en," replied a voice. " Hath 
 the damsel any message for me to my noble 
 mistress ?" 
 
 " Thou mayst enter," said the hermit, un- 
 barring the door. 
 
 "Nay; let the damsel come forth to me,"' 
 rejoined the man.
 
 166 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Having no apprehension, Editlia complied 
 with the request. 
 
 But as she issued forth, and looked about 
 for the messenger, she perceived two or three 
 mounted figures, partly concealed by the 
 trees, and would have instantly retreated, 
 had not a strong arm seized her, and, de- 
 spite her cries, dragged her off. 
 
 In another instant a scarf was twined 
 tightly round her arms, so as to prevent any 
 struggles. 
 
 Thus bound, she was lifted from the 
 ground, and placed in front of a horseman, 
 who seemed to be the chief of the party. 
 
 Alarmed by her outcries, the hermit and 
 her mother would have come to her assis- 
 tance, had they not been prevented by an 
 armed man, who planted himself at the door 
 of the cell. 
 
 " Eelease me !" cried the terrified damsel 
 to the horseman, whose arm was round her
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 167 
 
 waist as lie sustained her in front of his 
 saddle. 
 
 " Release you ? — not I !" he rejoined, in 
 an exulting tone. " I am too well pleased 
 with the prize I have gained to part with 
 you. I told you this morn you should be 
 mine, and I have kept my word." 
 
 " Ah ! it is he !" she cried, recoiling 
 from him as far as possible, but he held her 
 fast. 
 
 " You are completely in my power, 
 damsel," he said. 
 
 " My father will hear my cries, and deliver 
 me," she rejoined. 
 
 " Count not upon your father's aid, 
 damsel," laughed Sir John Holland, for it 
 was he. "I have taken care to prevent 
 any interference on his part. The un- 
 suspecting smith is at work at his forge. 
 My plan has been well contrived and well 
 executed. Ha, ha !"
 
 168 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Heaven will defeat your wicked design, 
 I nothing doubt !" slie returned. 
 
 And she renewed her outcries, calling 
 upon St. Ursula, St. Agatha, St. Julia, and 
 all saints who succour distressed damsels, to 
 protect her. 
 
 Paying no attention to her cries, and 
 believing they were unheard, except by 
 those who could render no assistance, Sir 
 John speeded along the narrow road through 
 the wood, intending to turn off as soon as 
 he came to an opening he had noted on the 
 right. 
 
 Somewhat in advance rode Sir Osbert 
 Montacute, while behind came two well- 
 mounted and well-armed attendants. 
 
 On a sudden Sir Osbert stopped, and 
 after listening for a moment, rode quickly 
 back to his leader, and said — 
 
 "There is danger in front, my lord. 
 Horsemen are approaching. I heard them 
 distinctly."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 1G9 
 
 " Are you quite sure ?" demanded Sir 
 John. 
 
 " Quite sure ; and as far as I can judge, 
 there are five or six in the company." 
 
 Though they conferred in a low tone, 
 Editha overheard what passed, and hoping 
 there might be a chance of rescue, renewed 
 her outcries. 
 
 They were immediately answered by the 
 advancing party. 
 
 " Confusion !" exclaimed Sir John 
 Holland. " We must fly !" 
 
 And turning his horse's head, he galloped 
 back in the direction he had come, followed 
 by the others.
 
 XXI. 
 
 THE RESCUE. 
 
 ITHOUT resorting to violence, it 
 would have been impossible to 
 silence the affrighted damsel; 
 and, guided by her cries, the pursuers ad- 
 vanced with increased rapidity, and seemed 
 to gain on the flying party. 
 
 Sir John and his attendants had dashed 
 past the liermitage, and entered another 
 path that led deeper into the wood ; but 
 finding themselves close pressed, though 
 they had not 3"et seen their pursuers, they 
 agreed to separate, and Sir John, abruptly 
 quitting his attendants, plunged into the 
 thicket. 
 
 Not without difficulty did he force his
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 171 
 
 way through the underwood ; but he 
 deemed himself secure, for liis fair captive 
 had become insensible. 
 
 He had not, however, penetrated far into 
 the wood, when the crashing of branches 
 announced that one of his pursuers was at 
 hand, and a fierce voice exclaimed, " Turn 
 thee, vile robber and desolator, and deliver 
 up the maid thou hast stolen. Stop, I say. 
 Thou canst not escape me." 
 
 Sir John wheeled round instantly at the 
 summons and drew his sword. 
 
 He had gained a small open patch, on 
 which the moonlight fell, so that he was 
 fully revealed to his pursuer, who burst 
 forth next moment from the surrounding 
 trees. 
 
 So wild and fantastic was the appearance 
 of the horseman, that Sir John gazed at him 
 and his sable steed with wonder, not un- 
 mingled with superstitious terror.
 
 172 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Eecovering himself instantly, he aimed a 
 blow at the Outlaw, which, had it taken 
 effect, would have terminated that daring 
 individual's career ; but the other nimbly 
 avoided the stroke, and wresting the young 
 noble's sword from his grasp, seized him by 
 the throat, crying out — 
 
 " Yield the damsel to me, or I will slay 
 thee and take her !" 
 
 "Never!" exclaimed Sir John. 
 
 And by a vigorous effort he succeeded in 
 freeing himself from the Outlaw'sgrasp, and 
 assailed him with his dagger. 
 
 In the conflict that ensued, either by his 
 master's hand or by that of the Outlaw, Sir 
 John's charger received a mortal wound in 
 the neck, and as the noble animal sank to 
 the ground, the still inanimate damsel 
 was snatched from her captor by the Out- 
 law. 
 
 Before Sir John could disengage himself
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 
 
 173 
 
 from his fallen steed, his successful antago- 
 nist was gone. 
 
 But he heard the sound of a horn, winded 
 by the Outlaw to recall his band.
 
 XXII. 
 
 EDITHA DISTRUSTS HER DELIVERER. 
 
 EANTIME, the OutLw, being well 
 acquainted with the intricacies of 
 the wood, had easily regained the 
 narrow path leading to the village, and pur- 
 sued it leisurely, in the expectation of being 
 rejoined by his band. 
 
 As he gazed at the beautiful head now 
 reclining upon his shoulder, evil thoughts 
 crossed him, and he could scarcely make up 
 his mind to relinquish the rich prize he had 
 gained. 
 
 " The maid has fallen into my hands," 
 he thought. "Why should I not retain 
 her, and make her my bride? But noj 
 that would cause a diiference 'twixt me and
 
 THE INSURUECTION. 175 
 
 lier father, and I must not "quarrel with 
 him now." 
 
 His gaze was fixed upon the fair face 
 with a passionate admiration, when Editha 
 opened her eyes and encountered his ardent 
 glance. She was almost as much affrighted 
 as she had previously been while in the 
 power of the young noble. 
 
 As soon as she understood what had hap- 
 pened, she thanked him for delivering her, 
 but besought him to set her down. 
 
 " Nay, I must carry you to your father, 
 fair damsel," he said ; " or I shall lose all 
 credit with him for the slight service I have 
 rendered you. Besides, you have scarcely 
 strength to walk." 
 
 " Perhaps not," she replied, resigning her- 
 self unwillingly to her disagreeable position. 
 " But you will heighten my gratitude if you 
 will take me home quickly." 
 
 She then inquired anxiously concerning
 
 176 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 her in other, but he could give her no in- 
 formation. His band, however, coming up 
 at the moment, he despatched one of them 
 to the hermitage. 
 
 This done, he set off at a gallop, and soon 
 reached Wat Tyler's dwelling. 
 
 The smith was standing at his door, in a 
 state of the greatest disquietude ; and as he 
 received his daughter from her deliverer, he 
 clasped her to his heart. 
 
 " Thank Heaven, you are safe !" he cried. 
 "But where is your mother?" 
 
 " You will see her presently," replied the 
 Outlaw. " You need have no uneasiness re- 
 specting her. She is in no danger." 
 
 "And what of that false friar?" cried 
 the smith, stamping on the ground with 
 rage. 
 
 " Be not angered with the good hermit, 
 father," said Editha. "You suspect him 
 unjustly. He has been duped by this
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 177 
 
 wicked young noble. I will tell you all 
 anon." 
 
 " Go in, then, child," said Wat, much 
 pacified by this assurance. " I must confer 
 with you ere you depart," he added to the 
 Outlaw. 
 
 " Will it be safe to enter your dwelling ?" 
 demanded the other. 
 
 "Perfectly," replied Wat. "All the 
 village has now retired to rest," 
 
 Thereupon the Outlaw sprang to the 
 ground, and, giving his steed to one of 
 the band, entered the cottage with the 
 smith. 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 XXIII. 
 
 A SUDDEN QUARREL. 
 
 HE room was dimly lighted by a 
 lamp, which revealed its low 
 raftered roof, large fireplace, with 
 the remains of a wood fire still burning on 
 the hearth, and simple furniture, such as 
 might be expected in a tenement of the 
 kind. 
 
 But there were several pieces of armour 
 hung up against the walls — a hauberk, bras- 
 sarts, vanbraces, gorget, greaves, a basinet, 
 and a buckler ; and these, with some offen- 
 sive arms — as a gisarme, a pole-axe, a martel 
 de fer, a couple of swords, a cross-bow, and 
 a long-bow, gave a peculiar character to the 
 room.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 170 
 
 It was not, however, surprising to find 
 tlie weapons in Wat Tyler's dwelling ; for it 
 must be recollected that he was an armourer 
 as well as a smith. 
 
 Nothing could be said properly to belong 
 to Editha. She had her own little room, and 
 it looked towards the garden. 
 
 Thither she had now retired, and kneeling 
 before a little image of the Blessed Virgin, 
 poured forth thanks for her fortunate delive- 
 rance. 
 
 Wat Tyler's first business was to resort 
 to a cupboard, whence he produced a flask 
 of wine and a couple of drinking-horns, and 
 placing these on the table, he sat down with 
 his confederate. 
 
 After they had solemnly pledged each 
 other, the smith said, in a grave tone, and 
 with a look that announced that his reso- 
 lution was taken — 
 
 "Brother, after this outrage, thou wilt 
 
 12—2
 
 180 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 not wonder that I am determined no longer 
 to delay the rising. The signal shall be 
 given to-morrow." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it !" cried the Outlaw. 
 " Twenty thousand men are ready to rally 
 round our standard as soon as it is raised. 
 But in what manner will the signal be 
 
 O" 
 
 given r 
 
 " I have not decided as yet," replied 
 Wat. "But bring all the men you can 
 muster to Dartford Brent by noon to- 
 morrow. By that time I shall have arranged 
 my plans, and be ready for action. My 
 design is to proceed first to Canterbury, in 
 order to release John Ball. By the time 
 we arrive there, we shall have collected all 
 our forces. Should we meet with resistance, 
 we will sack the city; but I believe the 
 inhabitants will receive us well. At any 
 rate, we will despoil the Archbishop of his 
 treasures ; and when we have got all we
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 181 
 
 can, we will commence our march to Lon- 
 don. A memorable march it shall be. 
 Not a mansion, not a castle, shall be un- 
 visited." 
 
 " Your thirst for vengeance is awakened, 
 I perceive, brother," said the Outlaw, 
 
 " And will not easily be allayed," replied 
 AVat. "These tyrannous nobles, who have 
 so long oppressed us, who grind us to the 
 dust, and steal our wives and daughters, 
 shall feel our power. We will exterminate 
 them. Drink another cup to their destruc- 
 tion !" 
 
 " Willingly," replied the Outlaw, empty- 
 ing the horn which had been fdled for him. 
 '' The hour of retribution is not far dis- 
 tant." 
 
 "It has been too long delayed," said 
 Wat. "Had this attempt succeeded, I 
 should have for ever blamed myself for my 
 sloth."
 
 182 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " 'Twill serve as a pretext for the rising," 
 observed the Outlaw. 
 
 " Hark ye, brother," he continued, leaning 
 his elbow on the table, and looking into 
 Wat's face as he spoke ; " I have a pro- 
 position to make to thee, and I doubt not 
 thou wilt readily assent to it. I have con- 
 ceived a love for thy daughter. Thou shalt 
 give her to me as a wife." 
 
 Wat stared at him in astonishment, as if 
 doubting whether he heard aright. 
 
 " How sayst thou ?" demanded the Out- 
 law, after a pause. 
 
 "We will talk of this hereafter," rejoined 
 the smith. " Thou hast other matters to 
 think of now." 
 
 " Nay ; I will not be put off thus," said 
 the Outlaw, peremptorily. " I must have 
 thy promise." 
 
 " I grieve to refuse thee," said the smith ; 
 *' but I must answer, * Xo !' "
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 183 
 
 " Grive me thy reason for refusal," cried 
 the Outlaw, controlling himself with diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 " I have no reason that I care to give," 
 replied the smith, bluntly. 
 
 " Having imperilled my life for the 
 damsel, I have a claim to her," cried the 
 Outlaw, with a fierce look. 
 
 " Thou hast a claim to her gratitude, but 
 nothing more," rejoined Wat Tyler. 
 
 " By St. Nicholas ! she shall be mine," 
 cried the Outlaw, springing to his feet and 
 drawing his sword. " And since I am 
 treated with this indignity, I will take her. 
 I have but to wind my horn, and my men 
 will come to my assistance." 
 
 " Not all of you shall take her from me," 
 cried AYat. " Thou art worse than the 
 young noble." 
 
 And, stepping quickly back, he seized a 
 sword that was hanging against the wall.
 
 184 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 They were glaring fiercely at each other, 
 neither liking to commence the attack, when, 
 Editha, who had heard the disturbance, 
 came forth from the inner room. 
 
 "Away with thee, girl !" exclaimed Wat. 
 " Thou art not wanted here. Gro back into 
 thine own room, and make fast the door." 
 
 " No ; I will not quit you, father," she 
 cried, rushing up to him. " What is the 
 cause of this sudden quarrel?" 
 
 " Thou art the cause of it, damsel," 
 replied the Outlaw. 
 
 "I?" she exclaimed. 
 
 " Thou hast caused the quarrel, and thou 
 canst end it with a word," he continued. 
 " Wilt thou share my fortunes ? — wilt thou 
 be my wife? Say 'yes,' and not twenty 
 fathers shall keep thee from me." 
 
 " If she consents, thou shalt have my 
 consent also," remarked Wat. 
 
 " Thou dost hear, damsel?" cried the 
 Outlaw.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 185 
 
 " In refusing tliy demand, for such it 
 would seem to be," replied Editha, scarcely 
 attempting to conceal the aversion with 
 which he inspired her, " my father has done 
 well. I am much beholden to thee for the 
 great service thou hast rendered me ; but 
 thou wilt cancel the obligation if thou dost 
 press thy suit." 
 
 " Enough ! I have been moonstruck," 
 cried the Outlaw, sheathing his sword. 
 " Thy pardon, damsel. I would not have 
 thee hate me, though thou canst not love 
 me. Thou wilt not think worse of me for 
 this, brother," he added to Wat. " The fit 
 is past, and will not return." 
 
 And he extended his hand to the smith, 
 who grasped it heartily, and their recon- 
 ciliation was complete. 
 
 Just then there was a knock at the door, 
 and next moment it was partly opened, and 
 one of the Outlaw's followers thrust in his 
 head.
 
 XXIV. 
 
 MESSER BENEDETTO IS CAPTURED BY THE 
 ROBBERS. 
 
 E have just stopped a mounted 
 traveller, captain," said the 
 robber, addressing his leader. 
 " Whence comes he," demanded the Out- 
 law. 
 
 " Only from the inn," replied the robber. 
 " From the inn — art sure ?" 
 " Quite sure," returned the robber. " We 
 saw him start. Shall we detain him ?" 
 
 " It may be Messer Benedetto, the rich 
 Lombard merchant," said Wat to the 
 Outlaw. " If so, he would be a great 
 prize to us at this moment."
 
 THE liNSURRECTION. 1S7 
 
 " Let him be brought in," said the Out- 
 law to his follower. 
 
 " Eetire, daughter," said Wat to Editha, 
 "and come not forth again, unless I sum- 
 mon thee." 
 
 As she disappeared a portly personage 
 was pushed in through the outer door, 
 which was immediately closed behind him. 
 
 " 'Tis he — 'tis the Lombard merchant," 
 observed Wat, in a low tone to his con- 
 federate. 
 
 " Why am I thus hindered on my jour- 
 ney?" inquired Messer Benedetto, much 
 alarmed by the appearance of the Outlaw. 
 " You mean me no harm, I trust ?" 
 
 " You must give an account of yourself, 
 Messer Benedetto, before I can permit you 
 to proceed on your journey," said the Out- 
 law. "I am an officer of justice." 
 
 " I should have thought otherwise," 
 observed Benedetto. " Thou lookst as if
 
 1S8 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 thou wouldst avoid all officers of justice. 
 But how have I incurred suspicion?" 
 
 " What is your motive for setting out at 
 this late hour from the inn ?" demanded the 
 Outlaw, in an authoritative voice. 
 
 "Simply the desire to arrive betimes in 
 London to-morrow," replied Benedetto. 
 
 " But you intended to sleep at the inn," 
 observed Wat. " You must have changed 
 your mind suddenly." 
 
 "There is nothing wrong in that, me- 
 thinks," rejoined Benedetto. " It occurred 
 to me that I had some important business 
 to transact to-morrow, which I had for- 
 gotten." 
 
 " Humph !" exclaimed Wat^ shrugging 
 his shoulders, incredulously. "You have not 
 omitted to leave special instructions with 
 your tax-collector, Shaxton, I'll be sworn !" 
 
 " I have not troubled myself about him," 
 replied Benedetto.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 1S9 
 
 "It is not prudent to travel without an 
 escort," said the Outlaw. " You may fall 
 into the hands of robbers. There are many 
 depredators about. For a trifling fee, I 
 and my men will see you safely on your 
 road." 
 
 " But what surety have I that you are not 
 leagued with robbers ?" said Benedetto. 
 
 " I leagued with robbers !" exclaimed the 
 Outlaw, indignantly. " Have I not already 
 told you I am an officer of justice ? I will 
 escort you freely for a mile ; but if I go 
 further, I and my men must be paid." 
 
 *' I gladly accept your offer," said Bene- 
 detto. "Am I at liberty to depart?" 
 
 *' Assuredly," replied the Outlaw. " I 
 have no desire to detain you, now that I am 
 satisfied you have no ill design. Thou wilt 
 see me to-morrow, friend, at the appointed 
 hour," he added, with a significant look at 
 the smith. " Good night !"
 
 190 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 He then went forth with Messer Bene- 
 detto, and called for the merchant's horse. 
 
 As it was brought, he gave some orders to 
 his men in a low voice. 
 
 Almost immediately afterwards, the self- 
 styled officer of justice and his unsuspecting 
 companion were riding together side by side 
 past the priory and on the road to London. 
 
 Any fears that Wat Tyler might have 
 entertained as to the safety of his wife were 
 set at rest by her appearance as soon as the 
 Outlaw and those with him had departed.
 
 XXV. 
 
 THE HOUR APPROACHES. 
 
 [OTWITHSTANDING the agita- 
 tion and excitement of the pre- 
 vious night, Editha attended 
 matins, as usual, at the priory. 
 
 After the service she had an interview 
 with the Lady Superior, and told her what 
 had occurred. 
 
 The good Prioress could scarcely repress 
 her emotion as she listened to the recital. 
 At its close she said — 
 
 "Tou have, indeed, escaped a great 
 danger, my dear child ; but as another at- 
 tempt may be made by this daring young 
 noble, you must take refuge for a time 
 within these walls. Here you will be safe,
 
 192 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 for, unscrupulous as he is, he will not dare 
 to commit a sacrilege." 
 
 " If my father will grant me permission, 
 I mil gladly avail myself of your offer, holy 
 mother," said Editha, in accents of the 
 deepest gratitude. 
 
 "Your father cannot refuse you, 
 child," rejoined the Prioress. " He will 
 understand the peril to which you are ex- 
 posed as well as I do. Your mother, also, 
 will perceive that precautions must be 
 taken. Come to me early in the day. All 
 shall be ready for you." 
 
 Accompanied by Sister Eudoxia, who was 
 sent with her by the Prioress, Editha then 
 returned to the village. 
 
 On the way thither they met the hermit, 
 who was going to offer explanations to "Wat, 
 but Editha told him they were unnecessary, 
 as her father was perfectly satisfied he had 
 been imposed upon.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 193 
 
 Eelieved by this assurance, the good man 
 went back to his cell. 
 
 It was a beautiful morning, and, en- 
 livened by the sunshine, the village pre- 
 sented a bright and cheerful aspect. 
 
 But to those who could understand them, 
 there were indications that a storm was 
 gathering, which might ere long burst 
 forth. 
 
 Some groups were collected on the green, 
 .and those composing them had sullen coun- 
 tenances and lowering brows. 
 
 Wat Tyler was haranguing one of these 
 assemblages, and as he was posted on the 
 .stump of a tree, his burly frame could be 
 distinctly seen above the heads of his 
 auditors. 
 
 That his speech was inflammatory might 
 be guessed from the excited gestures and 
 murmurs of those who listened to it. At 
 one time their murmurs rose to a roar of 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 194 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 indignation, but the ebullition was checked 
 by Wat. 
 
 Soon afterwards he quitted his post, and 
 his hearers dispersed, but not till they had 
 promised to be ready for the signal. 
 
 Drawn forth by the beauty of the morn- 
 ing, Chaucer had strolled out upon the 
 green, and watched from a distance the as- 
 semblage just described. He had easily 
 distinguished Wat Tyler, and quite com- 
 prehended the purport of his harangue. 
 Having heard of the attempt made over- 
 night to carry off Editha, he did not wonder 
 at her father's indignation. 
 
 From the menacing look of the concourse 
 as they dispersed, Chaucer was inclined ta 
 think they would soon re-assemble, and 
 that a disturbance would then infallibly 
 take place. 
 
 While he was thus reflecting, he saw 
 Wat Tyler coming towards him, and ad~ 
 vanced to meet him.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 195 
 
 " You have heard of the outrage done 
 me ?" said the smith, after a salutation had 
 passed between them. 
 
 " I have," replied Chaucer ; *' and I per- 
 ceive you are already taking steps to avenge 
 it. But beware lest you proceed too far." 
 
 " As well might you attempt to arrest 
 the bolt of heaven in its course as stay me 
 now," rejoined the smith, fiercely. " Be 
 warned by me, Master Geoffrey Chaucer. 
 Unless you mean to join the rising, set 
 forth upon your journey without delay. I 
 will not answer for your safety." 
 
 " Have you thought over what I said to 
 you respecting the Duke of Lancaster ?" 
 demanded Chaucer. " Rise in his name, 
 and I will stay with you." 
 
 " We are not for any faction, but for the 
 establishment of our rights," rejoined Wat. 
 " Were John of Gaunt here in person, he 
 would not obtain a single follower. But I 
 
 13—2
 
 196 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 again urge your immediate departure. 
 Blame me not if harm befalls you." 
 
 " Is tlie outbreak so near at hand ?" asked 
 Chaucer. 
 
 " Question me not — depart in peace !" 
 rejoined the other. 
 
 Chaucer, however, manifested very little 
 uneasiness. 
 
 "I will not depart till I have bidden 
 adieu to thy fair daughter, and congratulated 
 her on her escape." 
 
 " Come with me, then," cried Wat. " By 
 this time, she must have returned from the 
 priory." 
 
 J
 
 XXVI. 
 
 THE SIGNAL. 
 
 S tliey walked on, a man, noticeable 
 for his insolent deportment and 
 ill-favoured countenance, was seen 
 to enter the smith's cottage. 
 
 " Is not that Shaxton, the tax-collector ?" 
 remarked Chaucer. 
 
 " Ay, 'tis he," rejoined the smith, moodily. 
 " I shall have a word with him when he 
 comes forth. Bide here for a moment, I 
 pray you, sir." 
 
 Suddenly, a loud scream was heard from 
 the cottage, and caused Wat to start for- 
 ward ; but before he could reach the door, 
 his wife burst forth.
 
 198 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " What has happened ? Speak, woman !" 
 he vociferated. 
 
 "The villain has insulted our daughter!" 
 she rejoined. 
 
 "Ha!" ejaculated Wat, with a roar like 
 that of a lion. 
 
 And flying to the smithy, the door of 
 which was standing open, he snatched up a 
 heavy hammer. 
 
 Just as he reappeared, armed with his 
 formidable weapon, Shaxton came forth from 
 the cottage, and they stood face to face. 
 
 Appalled by the smith's terrible expres- 
 sion of countenance, the caitiff recoiled. 
 
 But his audacity did not entirely forsake 
 him, and he exclaimed — 
 
 " In the King's name, I charge thee to 
 let me pass, fellow ! I have but demanded 
 my lawful tax — the damsel is over age !" 
 
 " Thou liest, villain !" cried Wat. 
 
 And lifting the hammer with both hands.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 199 
 
 he brought it down with tremendous force 
 ■on the head of the miserable wretch, crush- 
 ing him to the earth. 
 
 As Shaxton dropped lifeless to the ground, 
 Dame Tyler rushed into the cottage Avith a 
 shriek ; while Chaucer, horrified at the 
 'Occurrence, remained transfixed to the spot- 
 Next moment, several other witnesses of 
 the incident came up. 
 
 " Thou hast done well, Wat !" they cried. 
 ■*' The villain deserved death !" 
 
 " I have struck the blow for freedom !" he 
 rejoined. 
 
 And rearing aloft the blood-stained ham- 
 mer, and setting his foot on the body of the 
 wretch he had slain, he shouted, in a sten- 
 torian voice, " Liberty !" 
 
 The cry awakened a hundred echoes. 
 Shouts of "Liberty!" resounded on all 
 sides. 
 
 The signal had been given, and answered.
 
 200 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 As if l)y magic, some two hundred insur- 
 gents appeared before the smith's dwell- 
 ing. 
 
 They were all provided with weapons of 
 various kinds — clubs, pole-axes, gisarmes, 
 scythe blades, or blades like a hedging-bill,, 
 glaives, pikes, swords, two-handed swords,, 
 broad-bladed daggers, bows, cross-bows, and 
 slings. Some few wore parts of armour — old 
 hauberks, leather-jacks, and skull-caps ; but 
 these were the exceptions. 
 
 Mark Cleaver, the butcher, was armed 
 with a falchion, with which he hacked olf 
 Shaxton's head, and stuck it on a pike. 
 
 As he held it up, a ferocious shout arose- 
 from the beholders. 
 
 At the commencement of this tumultuous 
 scene, Chaucer endeavoured to make his 
 escape ; but he was captured by Elias Liri- 
 pipe and Grouthead, each of whom was pro- 
 vided with a sword, besides smaller weapons.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 201 
 
 They detained him, till their leader's plea- 
 sure should be ascertained. 
 
 Meanwhile, Wat had entered his dwelling-, 
 and hastily donned a breastplate and skull- 
 cap ; arming himself, at the same time, with 
 a sword and dagger. 
 
 While thus employed, he called for his 
 daughter ; but she came not. However, he 
 learnt from his wife, who appeared from the 
 inner room, looking terribly frightened, that 
 Editha had flown with Sister Eudoxia to 
 the priory. 
 
 " It is well," observed Wat. " I meant 
 to send her thither. Do thou take refuge 
 there likewise." 
 
 " Nay ; I will not quit this cottage !" she 
 rejoined. " Oh, Wat !" she added, grasping 
 his arm, and striving to hold him back, 
 " thou art going to thy destruction !" 
 
 " I cannot turn back, if I would !" he re- 
 joined, sternly, and with an expression such
 
 202 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 as she had never before seen in his counte- 
 nance. '*' My work is ah^eady begun ! A 
 week lience, no name in England will be so 
 much dreaded as mine ! Fare thee well !"
 
 XXVII. 
 
 THE INSURGENTS MARCH OUT OF DARTFORD. 
 
 HEN Wat came forth, he found 
 
 that a fully- equipped steed had 
 
 been brought him by one of the 
 
 minstrels, who had th^o^vn off his disguise. 
 
 As he sprang into the saddle, a loud shout 
 
 greeted him. Waving his sword to the 
 
 assemblage, he called out — 
 
 " Brothers ! let us march to deliver our 
 country from oppression ! Our cry will be, 
 ' St. George for Merry England !' " 
 
 " Ay, England will soon be ' Merry Eng- 
 land' once more," responded several voices. 
 " I much fear not," thought Chaucer. 
 The poet then besought his captors to
 
 204 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 take him to their leader, and they complied ; 
 but Wat, who had now assumed a tone 
 and look of authority, refused to liberate 
 him. 
 
 " 'Tis your own fault that you are a pri- 
 soner, Master Chaucer," he said. " I shall 
 detain you as a hostage." 
 
 " At least let me have my horse," said 
 the poet. 
 
 " Pledge me your word that you will not 
 attempt to escape, and the request shall be 
 granted — not otherwise," rejoined Wat. 
 
 The pledge being given, he continued — 
 
 " We shall halt for awhile near the inn^ 
 and then your horse shall be brought you." 
 
 " Now, follow me !" he vociferated, put- 
 ting himself at the head of the insurgents. 
 
 Shouting loudly, and brandishing their 
 weapons, the whole party then began to 
 march towards the centre of the village. 
 
 About twenty paces in front of the
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 205 
 
 mounted leader strode Mark Cleaver, bear- 
 ing Shaxton's head on the pike. 
 
 A sort of body-guard to Wat was formed 
 by four individuals, who, from their strange 
 arms and accoutrements, presented a very 
 grotesque appearance. 
 
 Two of these were Crispin Curthose, the 
 shoemaker, who had put on an old piece of 
 body armour of Edward the Second's time, 
 and Peter Crust, the baker, who was fur- 
 nished with a pair of gauntlets, a battered 
 helmet, and a pole-axe ; the other two were 
 Elias Liripipe and Josbert Grouthead. 
 
 Behind marched Chaucer, with a guard on 
 either side of him. 
 
 The progress of the insurgents was inten- 
 tionally slow, for they felt sure their num- 
 bers would be increased. 
 
 Nor were they disappointed. Partly from 
 fear, partly from goodwill to the cause, the 
 villagers received them enthusiastically.
 
 206 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Ere long, another hundred men had joined 
 the party ; but as most of these were un- 
 armed, they were sent to collect all the 
 weapons of every kind that could be found 
 in the village, with a tolerably satisfactory 
 result. 
 
 When the insurgents halted opposite the 
 inn, Baldock, who was expecting their ar- 
 rival, stejDped forward, and saluting the 
 leader deferentially, offered him and his fol- 
 lowers the best liquors his house could fur- 
 nish. 
 
 "Thou dost not expect payment, Bal- 
 dock ?" said Crispin Curthose. 
 
 " Payment — no !" quoth the host ; " I 
 am too happy to supply 3^ou." 
 
 " Bring a flask of malvoisie, then, and four 
 drinking-cups," cried Curthose, authorita- 
 tively. 
 
 " Your worship shall be obeyed," replied 
 Baldock, bowing.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 207 
 
 " Call me not ' worsliip/ " said Curtliose. 
 "I am one of the people. Henceforward 
 there will be no distinctions. All men will 
 be equal. The shoemaker will be as good as 
 he for whom he worketh." 
 
 " Or rather, no more shoes and jerkins 
 will be made," said Liripipe. 
 
 " And no more bread will be baked — at 
 least by me," said Peter Crust. 
 
 "Then we must go barefooted, and un- 
 covered, and I shall soon be bareboned," ob- 
 served Baldock. " Since all are to be equal, 
 and I may not have enough for the whole 
 assemblage, will it please you to drink wine 
 or mead ?" 
 
 " Beshrew thee for a knave !" cried Grout- 
 head, fiercely. "We have drank ale and 
 mead long enough. Naught but the choicest 
 wines will serve our turn now. Bring the 
 malvoisie without more ado." 
 
 " Go, broach a cask of ale, Baldock — that
 
 208 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 will suffice," interrupted Wat Tyler, autho- 
 ritatively. " And, hark ye !" he added ; 
 *' let Master Chaucer's horse be brought 
 forth at once from the stable." 
 
 "Hath Master Chaucer joined you?" 
 cried the host, in surprise. 
 
 '' Not of his own free will," said the poet. 
 *'Bear record of that, good Baldock." 
 
 The host hurried off to execute the orders 
 he had received ; and fearing that his present 
 customers would help themselves if there 
 was any stint, he caused them to be abun- 
 dantly supplied with ale — a cask being 
 quickly broached for that purpose, as sug- 
 gested by Wat. 
 
 Chaucer's horse was likewise brought from 
 the stable, and the poet felt much more at 
 ease when he was again in the saddle. 
 
 After half an hour's delay, during which 
 there were further additions to the insurrec- 
 tionary party, ^^at Tyler became impatient
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 209 
 
 to set off; and lie was therefore well pleased 
 when a mounted messenger galloped into 
 the village, and informed him that his 
 brother chief awaited him, with a large body 
 of men, on Dartford Brent. 
 
 On receiving this satisfactory intelligence, 
 "Wat immediately gave the word to march, 
 and the party set forth in the same order as 
 before ; but making rather more noise, in 
 consequence of the strong ale they had 
 drunk. 
 
 All the old men, women, and children, 
 who were left in the \dllage, bade them 
 adieu. The priests belonging to St. 
 Edmond's Chapel likewise came forth to 
 look at them, but bestowed no blessing on 
 the ex2:)edition. 
 
 Mark Cleaver still continued in front, 
 but, on crossing the Darent, he planted the 
 pike, on which the wretched collector's head 
 was fixed, in the centre of the little wooden 
 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 210 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 bridge, and there it remained for many 
 a day, a ghastly memorial of what had 
 occurred. 
 
 Shaxton's body was cast into a ditch, for 
 the clergy refused it Christian burial.
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 THE MARCH TO KOCHESTER. 
 
 S soon as Wat Tyler and Lis 
 
 party appeared on the brow of 
 
 Dartford Hill, a loud shout arose 
 
 from another Lody of insurgents, who were 
 
 waiting for them at a short distance on the 
 
 plain. 
 
 At the same time, the outlaw, who was 
 at the head of this second party, galloped 
 forward to meet AVat, and oifer him his con- 
 gratulations. 
 
 As the two leaders rode on together, 
 they held a brief council, during which they 
 decided to march on at once to Rochester, 
 where Jack Straw affirmed they were certain 
 to be well received by the inhabitants, and 
 
 14—2
 
 212 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 must necessarily obtain a large accession of 
 force. 
 
 This being agreed upon, as soon as the 
 two bodies of insurgents had met and fra- 
 ternized, they set off across the plain, 
 following the course of the old Roman Eoad, 
 known as the Watling Street. 
 
 Jack Straw's party was not so numerous 
 as that of his brother chief, but several of 
 the men were mounted, and this was a 
 great advantage, since they could act as 
 emissaries. Two of them, indeed, were 
 sent on to Rochester, and others were 
 despatched to different little villages on the 
 road, to inform the inhabitants that the 
 rising had taken place. 
 
 The Outlaw had a prisoner, for whom he 
 expected a large ransom. 
 
 This v/as Messer Benedetto. 
 
 Instead of escorting him on the road to 
 London, he bad taken him into the forest.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 213 
 
 where the luckless Lombard merchant was 
 compelled to pass the night, and he was now 
 guarded by two of the band. To add to his 
 disquietude, he had just heard of Shaxton's 
 direful end. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it was some 
 little comfort to him to meet with a friend ; 
 and when the two insurgent parties com- 
 bined their forces, he and Chaucer were 
 allowed to ride together. 
 
 It was a strange sight to see this wild 
 rout of peasants, armed and accoutred in 
 the strange manner described, and com- 
 manded by leaders wild as themselves, sweep 
 like a dark ominous cloud, across the sunny 
 plain ; and those who watched the course 
 of the cloud could not doubt that it boded 
 destruction. 
 
 Ever and anon came other peasants, 
 armed with scythes, to swell the ranks, and 
 these recruits were received with shouts.
 
 214 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 No one gazed at it, no one even thought 
 of it, and yet the prospect from that plain 
 on that brilliant day was enchanting. 
 There, at the foot of the hill, was the broad^ 
 winding river, glittering in the sunshine,, 
 with the picturesque Essex shore. There- 
 were Greenhithe and Swanscombe, South- 
 fleet, and Northfleet, yet none looked 
 towards them, unless it might be Chaucer 
 and Benedetto. 
 
 Ere long, however, the bright prospect 
 was completely lost to sight, for the insur- 
 gents plunged into a forest so dense and 
 intricate, that none but the Outlaw and 
 his band could have guided them safely 
 through it. 
 
 So thick were the trees, that the sun- 
 beams could not penetrate between the 
 branches, and the wood was sombre even 
 on that splendid day. 
 
 Eor nearly two hours the insurgents were
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 215 
 
 involved in tlie wood, and when they came 
 forth, Eochester, with its towering castle, 
 then in its full strength and grandeur, lay 
 beneath them, about a mile off. 
 
 Here the two chiefs ordered a halt till 
 their emissaries returned; but they were 
 soon made easy in regard to them, for as 
 they looked towards the town, a party of 
 horsemen was seen to cross the bridge over 
 the Medway, and ascend the hill on which 
 the insurgents were stationed. 
 
 With this troop were the two messengers. 
 
 Satisfied, therefore, that no hostile design 
 was intended, the insurgents marched on to 
 meet their confederates, and were enthu- 
 siastically welcomed, 
 
 Hothbrand Corbrigge, the leader of the 
 party, lauded Wat Tyler for the bold step 
 he had taken, and assured him that the 
 people of Eochester were all favourable to 
 the cause.
 
 216 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " Fear not to enter the town/' he said ; 
 "but come with us, and we will make 
 you all heartily Avelcome ; and since, as 
 we understand, you intend to proceed to 
 Canterbury to-morrow, many of us will go 
 with you." 
 
 "But what of the constable of the 
 castle ?" said Wat. " Sir John de Newtown 
 is devoted to the King ; and when he sees us 
 enter Rochester, he will suspect our design, 
 and demand that we be delivered up to 
 him." 
 
 " Sir John de Newtown is a brave knight," 
 replied Hothbrand ; " but he hath had too 
 much experience of the people of Eochester 
 to trouble them, unless they molest him. 
 While you are under our safeguard, he will 
 allow you to tarry within the town as long 
 as you list, and to depart peaceably." 
 
 "On our return from Canterbury, when 
 we have received all the reinforcements we
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 217 
 
 expect, we will summon the constable to 
 surrender the castle," said the Outlaw. " If 
 he refuses, we will besiege him." 
 
 " We will lieljD you," rejoined Hothbrand. 
 "And though Rochester Castle is deemed 
 impregnable, it can be taken by surprise, as 
 ive will prove to you.'"' 
 
 They then descended the hill, and pro- 
 ceeded towards the town.
 
 XXIX. 
 
 FROM ROCHESTER TO HARBLEDOWN. 
 
 HE approach of the insurgents was 
 watched by armed men from the 
 walls and towers of the castle; 
 but as Hothbrand rode between the two 
 rebel leaders, and as the townspeople were 
 preparing to give them welcome, no attempt 
 to interfere was made by the garrison. 
 
 At that time, the bridge across the 
 Medway was built of wood, though, a few 
 years afterwards, it was superseded by a 
 stone bridge that endured to the present 
 century. 
 
 The earlier bridge, with which we are 
 concerned, was defended by a strong wooden 
 tower and great gates ; but the tower
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 219 
 
 being now occupied by friends, and the 
 gates tiirown wide open, the insurgents 
 marched into tlie town triumphantly, and 
 were hailed by the inhabitants as deliverers 
 of the country. 
 
 Well-lodged and feasted, they made them- 
 selves merry ; but the leaders took care to 
 prevent their followers from committing 
 any excesses. 
 
 While their captors were feasting and 
 revelling, Chaucer and Benedetto were 
 locked up in a tower. However, they wero 
 well supplied with eatables and wine. 
 
 At night, a great meeting was held in 
 the market-place, at which it was resolved 
 that a party under the command of Hotli- 
 brand should proceed on the morrow to 
 Maidstone, and after collecting all the 
 auxiliaries they could in that town, should 
 march to Canterbury, and join Wat Tyler 
 and his host.
 
 2.20 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Accordingly, next morning, soon after 
 daybreak, Hotlibrand, attended by some 
 thirty horsemen, set off on his mission. 
 
 Somewhat later, the populace began to 
 assemble, and great numbers having agreed 
 to accompany the insurgents to Canterbury, 
 the two leaders at length sallied forth, at 
 the head of a vast horde, and took the way 
 to Sittingboui-ne. 
 
 The Eochester men greatly outnumbered 
 those of Dartford, but there was no rivahy 
 or jealousy among the two parties, both 
 being bound in the same confederacy, and 
 though the new recruits had captains of 
 their own, they all acknowledged Wat Tyler 
 and Jack Straw as their leaders. 
 
 Most of the Rochester men were on foot, 
 but some few were on horseback. An im- 
 portant addition had, however, been made 
 to the rebel force by a band of archers. 
 
 Had it not been for these, Sir John de
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 221 
 
 Newtown, the constable of the castle, would 
 have attacked them, as they quitted the- 
 town. 
 
 The two prisoners, who had hoped they 
 might be left behind, were taken on. 
 
 Nothing j)^i*ticular occurred during the 
 march to Sittingbourne; but on the arrival 
 of the insurgents at that ancient town, they 
 were enthusiastically received by the inha- 
 bitants, and the two leaders and the nume- 
 rous captains were feasted at the famous old 
 hostel, the " Red Lion." 
 
 On this occasion, Chaucer and his fellow 
 captives were allowed to partake of the 
 feast. 
 
 Their forces being largely increased at 
 
 ►Sittingbourne, the insurgents next proceeded 
 
 to Faversham, where they halted for the 
 
 night, and took possession of the abbey, to- 
 
 the great discomfort of the monks. 
 
 Next morning they were joined by Hoth-
 
 222 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 brand with three hundred men on horseback 
 from Maidstone. 
 
 Ever since the outbreak the weather had 
 been splendid, and the day on which the 
 rebel host set out from Faversham to Can- 
 terbury was quite as fine as those that had 
 preceded it. 
 
 As they went on, more peasants joined 
 them from Ospringe and other places, 
 *' leaving all their business," says the good 
 old chronicler Holinshed, " letting plough 
 and cart stand, forsaking wife, children, and 
 houses." 
 
 The insurgents then went a little out of 
 their way to mount Boughton Hill, from the 
 summit of which a magnificent prospect was 
 obtained, including not only the Swale and 
 the Isle of Sheppey, with a glittering ex- 
 panse of sea, but the ancient city towards 
 which they were marching. 
 
 Erom this eminence, the golden angel,
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 223 
 
 which then crowned the great lofty spire of 
 the cathedral (the cathedral then had a 
 spire, he it noted, and was regarded with 
 much reverence by pilgrims), could be dis- 
 tinctly seen ; and as the insurgent leaders, 
 who were not devoid of superstition, gazed 
 at it, they thought that the figure had a 
 flaming torch in its hand, and beckoned 
 them on to burn and ravage. 
 
 From Boughton Hill the vast forest of 
 Blean extended almost to Canterbury, and 
 having satiated themselves with the splendid 
 view we have described, the insurgents took 
 a narrow road that led through the wood, 
 and did not reappear till they reached 
 Harbledown. 
 
 Thevenerable pile now burst upon them in 
 all its grandeur. But the aspect of the golden 
 angel on the spire seemed changed. Frowns 
 clothed its brow, and instead of beckoning 
 them on, it signed to them to retire.
 
 224 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Such, at least, was the notion of some of 
 those who grazed at it. 
 
 Part of the old walls on this side of the 
 city, together with the west gate, had been 
 recently rebuilt by Simon de Sudbury, then 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, so that they 
 formed a striking contrast to the ancient 
 habitations near them. 
 
 While the insurgents were marching 
 towards the city, though still under cover of 
 the wood, a splendid cavalcade of nobles, 
 knights, and dames, attended by an escort 
 of armed men, issued from the gate just 
 mentioned, quite unconscious of the danger 
 they were exposed to. 
 
 It was the Princess of Wales and her 
 train, returning from the pilgrimage. They 
 had not gone very far v/hen a loud shout 
 startled them, and the rebel host burst from 
 the wood.
 
 XXX. 
 
 THE REBEL CHIEFS HOLD A CONFERENCE WITH 
 THE PRINCESS. 
 
 T the sight of the insurgents, Sir 
 John Holland, who was near the 
 Princess, urged her to ride back 
 to the city as fast as she could ; but, with 
 extraordinary spirit, she refused, saying — 
 
 " I will speak to these men. I am not 
 afraid of them. They will do me no harm." 
 
 " You know not what you do, madam !" 
 cried Sir John, who had recognised the two 
 insurgent leaders, and well knew he had no 
 mercy to expect from them. "You will 
 sacrifice us all. What can we do a^^ainst 
 that infuriated rabble?" 
 
 " Leave them to me !" replied his mother, 
 VOL. I. 15
 
 226 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 undauntedly, " I feel sure I can pacify 
 them, but not if you are with me, for you 
 are the special object of their dislike. My 
 ladies will stay with me." 
 
 " We will," they cried, pressing towards 
 her. 
 
 " Fly, instantly, I command you !" cried 
 the Princess, authoritatively, to her son. 
 " You will only endanger my safety ! Take 
 all the nobles and knights with you, but 
 leave the armed escort with me." 
 
 " You hear what the Princess says, my 
 lord ?" exclaimed Sir John. " Shall we 
 obey her ?" 
 
 " We must !" replied Sir Osbert Monta- 
 cute. 
 
 Most reluctantly did Sir John, with the 
 whole of the nobles, knights, and esquires, 
 ride back towards the city, leaving the 
 courageous Princess undefended, except by 
 the armed escort.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 227 
 
 Sir John and liis party did not, how- 
 ever, enter the city, but drew up about a 
 bow-shot from the west gate, to await the 
 result. 
 
 Meantime, the summit of the gate was 
 crowded with armed men, and others ap_ 
 peared on the watch-towers, but none of 
 them showed any disposition to take part 
 against the rebels. 
 
 Surrounded by her ladies, with her con- 
 fessor, her physician, her almoner, her pages, 
 and all her personal attendants behind her, 
 the Princess calmly awaited the approach of 
 the insurgents. 
 
 When they came up, the two leaders mo- 
 tioned back their followers, and advanced 
 towards her. 
 
 Awed by her majestic looks and deport- 
 ment, both the fierce men felt compelled to 
 show her a certain deference. 
 
 " AVhy do I see you in this warlike array, 
 
 15 — 2
 
 228 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 my good friends ?" demanded the Princess, 
 in a firm, yet conciliatory tone. 
 
 " That which I hinted to your Grace at 
 Dartford hath come to pass," rejoined Wat 
 Tyler. '' The people have risen to obtain 
 their rights. Nor will they retire till their 
 just demands shall be granted by the King, 
 your son." 
 
 " I cannot confer with men in open rebel- 
 lion against their Sovereign," said the Prin 
 cess. " Lay down your arms, and I will 
 willingly listen to you, and represent your 
 grievances to the King." 
 
 These words, pronounced in a loud voice, 
 were followed by murmurs by those who 
 heard them. 
 
 " Princess," said Wat Tyler, sternly, 
 " this is idle talk. Having taken up arms, 
 we shall not lay them down till our object 
 be attained. Of that be sure. Knowing 
 you are a good and gracious lady, and
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 229 
 
 mean the people well, we have consented to 
 this conference. But 'tis useless to prolong 
 it, since it is plain it can come to nothing. 
 Were it our pleasure, we could detain you ." 
 
 " Detain me !" exclaimed the Princess. 
 
 " Alarm not yourself, madam ; we have 
 no such intent. You are free to pass on 
 with your ladies, your personal attendants, 
 and your escort. Tell the King what you 
 have seen and heard. That is all we ask." 
 
 " Your Grrace cannot re-enter Canterbury," 
 said tlie Outlaw, seeing her glance in that 
 direction. 
 
 " May I not take my retinue with me ?" 
 she inquired. 
 
 " No," rejoined Wat Tyler. " And if Sir 
 John Holland falls into our hands, we will 
 put him to death !" 
 
 "You will not advance your cause by 
 cruelty," said the Princess. " A word ere I 
 depart. You have a prisoner with you, I
 
 230 MERRT ENGLAND. 
 
 perceive — Master Geoffrey Chaucer. Have 
 yon fixed upon his ransom ?" 
 
 " Ay ; a thousand crowns," replied Wat 
 Tyler. 
 
 " There is double the sum in this purse," 
 said the Princess. "Take it, and let him 
 come with me." 
 
 As Wat received the richly-embroidered 
 purse from the hand of the Princess, he told 
 the poet he was free. 
 
 Chaucer could only express his gratitude 
 at the moment by a profound obeisance to 
 the gracious lady who had efifected his libera- 
 tion. 
 
 Encouraged by what had taken place, 
 Messer Benedetto thus besought the 
 Princess — 
 
 " I pray you intercede for me, gracious 
 madam. I am willing to pay a heavy 
 ransom !" 
 
 ""Tis Messer Benedetto, the Lombard
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 231 
 
 merchant," said the Outlaw. " He is rich 
 enough to pay a thousand marks for his 
 ransom ; and, by St. Nicholas ! I will not set 
 him free for less." 
 
 "How say you, Messer Benedetto?" 
 asked the Princess. " Will you pledge 
 your word to me that you will pay the 
 amount?" 
 
 " I will, gracious madam," he rejoined, 
 ** provided I be allowed to depart with your 
 Highness." 
 
 " Enough !" cried the Outlaw. 
 
 And the merchant was forthwith released, 
 and took up a position beside Chaucer at 
 the rear of the Princess's attendants. 
 
 Kiding in front, and calling out authori- 
 tatively to the peasants to stand back, the 
 two leaders forced a passage for the Princess 
 and those with her through the insurgent 
 host. They were aided in the difficult task 
 by Hothbrand and some others.
 
 232 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 The intrepid lady showed no signs of fear 
 at the scowhng glances fixed upon her, or at 
 the various weapons bristling around her ; 
 but her damsels did not display quite so 
 much courage. 
 
 Even the confessor, the physician, and 
 the pages were greatly alarmed. 
 
 The armed escort glared fiercely at the 
 threatening crowd, and shook their fists at 
 them. More than once a conflict seemed 
 imminent, but it was prevented by the exer- 
 tions of Hothbrand. 
 
 When Wat Tyler and the Outlaw had 
 conducted the Princess safely through the 
 tumultuous horde, they retired, and she rode 
 ofi" at a quick pace with her attendants. 
 
 At the same time, Sir John Holland, and 
 the nobles and knights with him, who had 
 witnessed the scene just described, turned 
 round, and dashed through the west gate.
 
 XXXI. 
 
 SIR JOHN HOLLAND AND HIS COMrANIONS 
 TAKE REFUGE IN THE ARGHBlSHOP's PALACE. 
 
 sooner were tliey inside, than Sir 
 John called to the guard to close 
 the gate, and sound to arms ; but, 
 to his astonishment and rage, the guard 
 refused to obey the order, saying they would 
 not close the gate against friends and bro- 
 thers. 
 
 " Friends and brothers !" exclaimed Sir 
 John, furiousl}'. " They are rebels and 
 traitors ! Would ye deliver the city to 
 them ? Do my bidding instantly, or I will 
 ,cause you to be hanged for treacherous vil- 
 lains, as ye are !" 
 
 But the guard remained perfectly unmoved 
 by the young noble's anger and threats.
 
 234 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Meantime, several citizens had come up, 
 and one of them called out to the young 
 nobles — 
 
 " Begone, if you would save your lives ! 
 Hear you not yon shouts? — see you not yon 
 people hurrying hither ? If you are caught 
 you will be slain, or delivered to yom- ene- 
 mies ! Fly, while there is yet time !" 
 
 " My lord, it is true !" cried Sir Osbert. 
 " A large concourse is coming along the 
 street, and they are evidently friends of the 
 rebels. If we stay here, we shall be caught 
 between two fires." 
 
 " Forward, then, in the King's name !" 
 cried Sir John, drawing his sword. " We 
 will hew our way through the rebellious 
 rascals if they oppose us !" 
 
 With this, he struck spurs into his 
 charger, and, followed by his companions, 
 galloped along the street. 
 
 Such was the impetuosity of their career,
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 235 
 
 that the citizens, though many of them were 
 armed, made way, fearful of being trampled 
 imder foot. 
 
 Still maintaining their furious pace, and 
 carrying terror with them. Sir John and his 
 party rode past the cathedral to the other 
 side of the city. 
 
 On reaching the east gate, where they 
 meant to make an exit, they found it shut 
 and strongly guarded. 
 
 Cross-bowmen were on the summit, and a 
 shower of iron bolts would have been 
 launched against them had they not with- 
 drawn. 
 
 They then rode to the Burgate, but it was 
 likewise closed ; and doubtless all the other 
 gates were shut. 
 
 Hitherto everything had betokened that 
 the people were hostile to the young nobles 
 and friendly to the insurgents, who by this 
 time must have entered the city.
 
 236 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 The peril, therefore, was very great, and 
 a place of refuge must be instantly found. 
 There were several monasteries, but the 
 priors might be unwilling to receive them. 
 
 In this emergency, Sir Osbert Montacute 
 proposed that they should return to the 
 Archbishop's palace, where the Princess of 
 "Wales had been lodged during her stay at 
 Canterbury, and Sir John approving of the 
 suggestion, they galloped olF at once to the 
 palace. 
 
 It was a magnificent edifice, built by 
 Lanfranc, and had been inhabited by Becket, 
 and being surrounded by high walls, was 
 capable of defence. In fact, it had been 
 more than once maintained against the 
 turbulent citizens. 
 
 When they stopped at the arched en- 
 trance, which still exists in Palace Street, 
 the porter immediately summoned old 
 Michael Siward, the seneschal, who, on
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 237 
 
 learning that tlie city was beset by rebels, 
 and that the populace were friendly to them, 
 was filled w4th indignation. 
 
 "Would that his Grace were here!" 
 he exclaimed. "He would speak to the 
 people, and bring them to their duty. But 
 I will do the best I can for your protection. 
 Enter, I pray you, noble sirs." 
 
 Thereupon the gate was thrown open, 
 and made fast again as soon as the whole 
 party had ridden into the courtyard. 
 
 "You are safe now, I trust, Sir John," 
 said Siward. " I cannot think that the 
 rebels will dare to attack the palace ; but 
 should they do so, we will defend it to the 
 last." 
 
 After warmly thanking the seneschal for 
 his zeal in their behalf. Sir John and his 
 companions dismounted, and their horses 
 were taken to the stables, which were at the 
 further end of the courtyard.
 
 238 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 By this time most of the household — 
 several of whom were armed — had assembled 
 in the courtyard, and after giving them some 
 orders, Siward asked Sir John if he should 
 conduct him and his friends to the great 
 hall. 
 
 " I thank thee, no, good friend," replied 
 Sir John. " We will remain here for the 
 present to see what betides. To judge from 
 the shouting and noise in the street, the 
 rebels must have discovered that we have 
 taken refuge in the palace, and are coming 
 hither to demand that we be delivered up to 
 them." 
 
 " Should the audacious demand be made, 
 my reply will be that your lordship and 
 those with you are under the safeguard of 
 the Archbishop," said the seneschal ; " and 
 since his Grace would never yield you up, 
 neither will I. If they be not content with 
 that response, they shall have a where-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 239 
 
 witlial to satisfy them," he added signifi- 
 cantly. 
 
 Sir John and the others laughed heartily 
 at this speech of the stout old man. 
 
 " I doubt not we shall be able to hold out 
 against them," pursued the seneschal ; " but 
 come what will, I engage that your lordship 
 shall never fall into their hands." 
 
 " I have perfect faith in thee, my good 
 friend," said Sir John. 
 
 " Then you will not think I am deserting 
 my post if I leave you for awhile," said 
 Siward. "The cathedral must not be ne- 
 glected. Should those sacrilegious villains 
 gain an entrance, they would not hesitate 
 to carry ojff the treasures of the shrine." 
 
 " Thou art right," cried Sir John. " Go 
 see that all needful precautions are taken to 
 protect the shrine."
 
 XXXII. 
 
 TRIAR NOSROCK AND THE BAN-DOGS. 
 
 FTEE, reiterating his orders to the 
 household, all of whom promised 
 implicit obedience to his injunc- 
 tions, the seneschal hurried off to the back 
 of the palace, and unlocking a door in tlie 
 walls, entered the cloisters, through wliich 
 he quickly passed, thus pursuing the precise 
 course taken by the sainted Becket when he 
 fled from the murderous knights. 
 
 In another moment Si ward was in the 
 splendid north transept, and gazing anxi- 
 ously down the magnificent nave, but beheld 
 only a few priests and monks pacing along 
 the aisles, with here and there a devotee 
 kneeling at a shrine — nothing to alarm him.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 241 
 
 He then turned towards the choir, but no 
 irreverent intruders could be distinguished ; 
 and satisfied he was in time to prevent any 
 desecration of the sacred pile, he went 
 round and caused all the doors to be locked, 
 strictly enjoining the vergers to allow no 
 one to enter the cathedral, and to send out 
 all persons then within the building through 
 the cloisters. 
 
 Having taken these precautions, he re- 
 paired to the chapel of the Holy Trinity, 
 where was the shrine of St. Thomas a Becket, 
 the riches of which he feared would excite 
 the cupidity of the rebels. 
 
 Many pilgrims were kneeling on the 
 well-worn pavement before the shrine ; but 
 he did not disturb them, his object being to 
 see Friar Isl'osrock, a monk, who occupied a 
 watching-chamber above the chapel. 
 
 The window of this chamber commanded 
 Becket's gorgeous shrine, and Friar Nos- 
 
 VOL. I. ] G
 
 242 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 rock's business was to see that none of the 
 priceless jewels adorning it were appro- 
 priated by pretended pilgrims, and so well 
 did he perform his office, that not a single 
 gem had been stolen. 
 
 The vigilant monk was provided with a 
 dozen ban-dogs — huge and fierce mastiffs — 
 which he could let loose should any noc- 
 turnal attemjDt be made at depredation 
 upon the shrine. 
 
 Moreover, he had the means of ringing 
 an alarm-bell. 
 
 In Friar Nosrock's chamber an illustrious 
 prisoner had been confined — namely. King 
 John of Prance. 
 
 The sudden manner in which Siward 
 entered his chamber somewhat startled the 
 monk. 
 
 " What wouldst thou, brother ?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I am come to warn thee to look well
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 243 
 
 after the shrine," replied the seneschal. 
 " The cathedral is in danger." 
 
 " The cathedral in danger ! Hoi}'- Thomas ! 
 Prom whom?" exclaimed the monk, horror- 
 stricken. 
 
 " From rebels and traitors," replied 
 Siward. " An insurrection hath broken 
 out among the peasantry. They have 
 come to Canterbury in great numbers, and, 
 instead of driving them hence, the foolish 
 citizens have admitted them." 
 
 " 'Tis all John Ball's doing!" cried 
 Friar Nosrock. " He has stirred up the 
 people to this point. The Archbishop ought 
 to have hanged him." 
 
 " Very true," said Siward. " The Wick- 
 liffites are numerous in the city, I fear, and 
 will take advantage of this outbreak to do 
 all the mischief they can. The rebels are 
 threatening the palace, where Sir John 
 Holland and several young noljles and 
 
 IG— 2
 
 244 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 kniglits, who accompanied tlie Princess in 
 lier pilgrimage, have taken refuge." 
 
 " Only this very morn I beheld the Prin- 
 cess kneeling before the shrine," said the 
 friar. " I trust her Grace hath escaped the 
 ribald crew ?" 
 
 " A}'-, she has got off, but her son and his 
 companions are in some danger, as I have 
 told thee. I must now go back to the 
 palace, and see to its defence. Do thou 
 take care of the shrine." 
 
 " Rely on me, good master seneschal," 
 replied the monk. " Should the rebels 
 come here, I will let loose the ban-dogs, 
 and I warrant thee they will make havoc 
 among the ribalds. They had better con- 
 tend with a legion of fiends than with 
 those fierce hounds," he added, with an ill- 
 suppressed laugh. 
 
 " Hark thee, holy brother," said Siward. 
 " We may be driven by numbers from the
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 
 
 245 
 
 palace. In that ev^ent we shall seek refuge 
 in the cathedral. Wilt thou give Sir John 
 Holland and his friends a lodging in th}' 
 chamber?" 
 
 " Willingly," replied tlie monk. 
 
 AYell satisfied with the promise, the sene- 
 schal departed.
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 THE HOSTEL IN MERCERY LANE. 
 
 EANWHILE the wliole of the in- 
 surgents had entered the city ; 
 and though strict orders were 
 given by the leaders that the different par- 
 ties of which the host was composed should 
 keep together, the tumultuous peasantry 
 could not be restrained, but spread about in 
 every direction. 
 
 The main body, however, of the rebels, 
 headed by Wat Tyler and the Outlaw, 
 marched along the High Street, amid the 
 shouts of the populace, who were quite as 
 enthusiastic in their demonstrations as the 
 people of Rochester had been. 
 
 The first object of the leaders was to
 
 THE INSURRECTION. * 247 
 
 liberate John Ball, and with that view they 
 were proceeding to the barbican ; but they 
 were spared the trouble, for before they 
 reached the centre of the city, loud shouts, 
 coming from the oj)posite direction, in- 
 formed them that the monk was free ; and 
 they presently beheld him riding on a mule, 
 at the head of a vast multitude. 
 
 With him, on horseback, were a brewer, 
 named Eichard Basset, and his son, Conrad, 
 both Wickli Sites, who had accomplished his 
 liberation. 
 
 A joyous meeting took pUice between the 
 monk and his confederates, and after they 
 had exchanged greetings and congratula- 
 tions, John Ball, Avho was anxious to address 
 the people, proposed that they should repair 
 to the Rush Market. 
 
 Intimation to this effect having been 
 given, the vast concourse began to move 
 towards the appointed spot. To reach it
 
 248 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 they had to proceed along a picturesque 
 thoroughfare, called Mercery Lane, which 
 was full of shops and stalls where, amongst 
 other matters, leaden brooches, stamped 
 with the mitred head of the martyred saint, 
 Thomas a Becket, were sold to the pilgrims. 
 In Mercery Lane was situated the large 
 hostel, rendered ever famous by Chaucer, 
 and known as the " Chequers of the Hope." 
 Built of massive timber, this vast cara- 
 vanserai contained a long upper chamber, 
 approached by stairs from the outside, and 
 known as " The Dormitory of the Hundred 
 Beds." So numerous were the bands of 
 pilgrims to the shrine of St. Thomas, that 
 not a bed was ever unoccupied. 
 
 Besides this grand dormitory, accounted 
 a wonder at the time, the vast building had 
 a refectory to correspond, and a spacious 
 court, into which the pilgrims could ride on 
 their arrival in the city.
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 249 
 
 While the shouting concourse poured 
 down Mercery Lane to hear John Ball's 
 address, Curthose, Liripipe, Mark Cleaver, 
 Grouthead, Peter Crust, and others of the 
 Dartford men, who now exercised a sort of 
 authority in the insurgent army, turned 
 into the court of the "Chequers." 
 
 The place was crowded with pilgrims, all 
 of whom were much alarmed by what was 
 going- on ; but the Dartford men soon dis- 
 covered the host, Nicholas Chilham, and 
 told him, in a peremptory tone, that they 
 meant to lodge at the " Chequers" that 
 night, and should require the whole of the 
 hundred beds for themselves and their 
 comrades. 
 
 In vain Master Chilham protested that 
 the entire dormitory was engaged. That 
 mattered not to the Dartford heroes. They 
 must be accommodated. All the other 
 guests must turn out, and seek quarters
 
 250 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 elsewhere. Moreover, Master Chilhara 
 must provide a good supper for a hundred 
 persons. 
 
 Fearing he might have a whole host 
 quartered upon him if he refused, the land- 
 lord promised compliance. 
 
 At the farther end of the Rush Market 
 stood a large cross, painted and gilt, and, 
 stationing himself in front of it, with an 
 insurgent leader on either side, John Ball 
 proceeded to address the concourse, which 
 entirely filled the place. The assemhlage 
 was partly composed of insurgent peasants, 
 partly of citizens. 
 
 It was in one of those fierce and inflam- 
 matory harangues which he had previously 
 found so successful that the monk attempted 
 to justify the outbreak, by showing that 
 the people had been treated like slaves, and 
 were forced to throw oft' the yoke ; but his 
 chief attack was directed against the Arch-
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 251 
 
 bishop of Canterbury, and he declared that 
 neither the King nor the kingdom ought to 
 submit to any episcopal see. Above all, no 
 bishop or other ecclesiastic ought to hold 
 an important civil office. 
 
 " As Chancellor of England," he vocife- 
 rated, " Simon de Sudbury has betrayed his 
 Sovereign, and violated the rights of the 
 people, and he therefore deserves death." 
 
 " He shall die the death of a traitor !" 
 cried Wat Tyler, in a loud voice. " Would 
 we had him here !" 
 
 " We will behead him, and make thee 
 Archbishop in his stead !" shouted several 
 persons to John Ball. 
 
 " Were it in your power to make me 
 Pope of Eome, I would refuse," rejoined the 
 monk. "Like my master, John Wycliffe, 
 I have ever preached the abolition of the 
 ecclesiastical hierarchy, and my actions shall 
 not belie my words."
 
 252 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Violent cries then rose from the assem- 
 blage, and many persons called out, " Let 
 us sack the cathedral !" 
 
 " Hold !" exclaimed Wat Tyler, in a sten- 
 torian voice. " I forbid you to enter the 
 cathedral for any such purpose." 
 
 Some murmurs arose ; but they instantly 
 ceased, as Wat continued, " Since you want 
 pillage, you shall have it. The Arch- 
 bishop has robbed the people, and 'tis meet 
 that his palace shoukl be plundered. Go 
 thither !" 
 
 " To the palace ! to the palace !" shouted 
 a hundred voices. 
 
 At this juncture, Conrad Basset, the 
 brewer's son, called out, " Sir John Holland 
 and the party of young nobles and knights 
 in attendance on the Princess of Wales 
 liave taken refuge in the palace. What 
 shall we do with them?" 
 
 " Slay them !" cried Wat. " They are a
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 253 
 
 brood of vipers that ought to be 
 crushed !" 
 
 Prepared to execute this ferocious man- 
 date, the concourse hurried back through 
 Mercery Lane, and proceeded to the palace.
 
 XXXIV 
 
 THE SIEGE OF THE ARCHBISHOP S PALACE. 
 
 OUD blows, dealt against the gates 
 of the Archbishop's Palace, warned 
 those in the court that the re- 
 bellious concourse were endeavouring to 
 break in, whereujDon Si ward, who had just 
 returned from the cathedral, accompanied 
 by half a dozen of the household, armed 
 with crossbows and pikes, mounted to the 
 top of a turret that flanked the walls, and 
 called out to the assailants to be gone. 
 
 But as the insurgents took no heed, the 
 cross-bowmen shot their bolts at them, and 
 three or four were stricken down. 
 
 This occasioned a pause ; but in another 
 minute the attack was renewed, and huge
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 255 
 
 stones were liurled against the gate, but 
 being of stout oak, it resisted all their efforts. 
 Again the cross-bowmen endeavoured to 
 drive back the assailants, but they them- 
 selves had now become the mark for some 
 archers, who were mingled with the multi- 
 tude, and were obliged to seek a less exposed 
 position. 
 
 Siward alone remained on the top of the 
 turret, and as the shafts flew quickly past 
 him, he tranquilly adjusted his cross-bow, 
 and smote a man who was planting a scaling- 
 ladder against the wall. 
 
 At this juncture, the two insurgent 
 leaders appeared among tlie concourse, and 
 John Ball, who was with them on his mule, 
 forced his way through the throng towards 
 the gate, and, holding up his hand to enjoin 
 a brief suspension of hostilities, thus bespoke 
 the brave old seneschal. 
 
 " I know thee well, Siward," he said ;
 
 256 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 " and would not thou sliouldst come to 
 harm. It must be plain to thee that thou 
 canst not hold out against this determined 
 multitude. Open the gates, therefore, and 
 let us in ; and I will undertake that thy life, 
 and the lives of all the household, shall be 
 spared." 
 
 " Aught more ?" inquired Siward, in a 
 taunting tone. 
 
 "Ay, this," cried Wat Tyler, who had 
 now come up. " We require that Sir John 
 Holland, and the party of licentious young 
 nobles, who have taken refuge here, be deli- 
 vered up to us, that justice be done upon 
 them." 
 
 " 'Tis not for thee and thine to judge 
 them," said Siward, scornfully. " Now hear 
 me ! I am left in charge of my master's 
 house, and never will surrender it to robbers ; 
 neither will I deliver up noble and valiant 
 gentlemen to be murthered by vile ribalds !"
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 257 
 
 The extreme boldness with which these 
 words were uttered kept the hearers quiet, 
 and the seneschal went on with unabated 
 courage — 
 
 " As to thee, thou renegade priest," he 
 said, addressing John Ball, " who hast 
 stirred up all this mischief, I would his 
 Grace had hanged thee ! But I will put it 
 out of thy power to do further ill !" 
 
 And, as he spoke, he raised his arbalest 
 quickly to his shoulder, and let fly a bolt at 
 the monk, which struck his cowl, but did 
 >not injure him. 
 
 " Thou wert not born to kill me!" lauj^j-hed 
 John Ball, as he took out the iron-headed 
 dart. 
 
 Next moment, a flight of arrows passed 
 over the turret where the seneschal had 
 stood, but he was gone. 
 
 Eedoubled efforts were now made by the 
 insurgents to take the palace. 
 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 As it seemed a waste of time to batter 
 against the door, scaling-ladders were planted 
 against the high embattled walls, and up 
 each of these half a dozen men climbed ; 
 but no sooner did they reach the embrasures, 
 than they were hurled back. 
 
 The defending force, among whom were 
 Sir John Holland and the young nobles, 
 w^ere fully prepared for them, and for some 
 time not a single assailant was able to set 
 foot on the battlements. 
 
 But it was quite clear the place could not 
 hold out against such a host, and it behoved 
 those inside to provide for their safety by a 
 timely retreat, for no one thought of a 
 surrender. 
 
 Accordingly, when the battlements had 
 been cleared of the few who had gained 
 them, and the swarm of fresh assailants had 
 been shaken off the ladders, advantage was 
 taken by Siward, who had previously ap-
 
 THE INSUraiECTION. 259 
 
 prized them of his design, to hurry off Sir 
 John Holland and his party to the cloisters. 
 
 Thither they were followed by the whole 
 household, for no one desired to be left to 
 the mercy of the rebels ; and, the door being 
 made fast behind them, they all sought 
 shelter in the cathedral — the entrance from 
 the cloisters being carefully secured. 
 
 The seneschal alone returned to the palace, 
 being determined not to leave it till the last. 
 
 It being quickly discovered that the de- 
 fenders had retired, the assailants therefore 
 sprang upon the battlements, and, shouting 
 to their friends that the palace was won, 
 proceeded to throw open the portal, and in 
 another minute the rebel leaders rode into 
 the court. 
 
 No restraint being put upon them by their 
 leaders, the insurgents rushed into the 
 palace, and commenced the work of destruc- 
 tion and spoliation.
 
 260 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 Determined, however, to prevent the de- 
 secration of the cathedral, Wat Tyler placed 
 a strong guard at the entrance to the clois- 
 ters, giving the men strict injunctions to 
 allow no one to pass without his express 
 order. 
 
 He then dismounted, and accompanied 
 by John Ball and the outlaw, entered the 
 great hall of the palace — a noble apartment, 
 with a richly-carved screen, a fine gallery, 
 and a grand oak ceiling. Moreover, the hall 
 was adorned by several fine paintings. 
 
 In this magnificent banqueting-hall kings 
 had been entertained with almost regal 
 splendour and hospitality, and in it the 
 Princess of Wales dined daily with her suite 
 during her stay at the palace. 
 
 Alas ! it was now invaded by a furious 
 throng, who, having hastily ransacked tlie 
 other apartments, were piling the valuables 
 on the tables, or throwing them on the
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 261 
 
 floor, ill order to cany tliem off more 
 readily. 
 
 Here were great silver flagons and cups, 
 pieces of plate, rich vestments, curtains and 
 tapestry, torn down from beds and walls ; 
 coffers, chests, chairs, and pieces of furni- 
 ture, that could be carried off, and a hundred 
 articles besides, that cannot be enumerated. 
 
 " The Chancellor got this chair too cheap," 
 cried one of the plunderers. 
 
 " Ay ; he made us pay for it, as he did for 
 this silver drinking-cup," added another. 
 " Ours they are by rights, and we will have 
 them," 
 
 On a da'is, at the upper end of the hall, 
 and covered b}- a rich canopy, was the Arch- 
 bishop's throne. In order to proclaim his 
 authority, "Wat Tyler marched thither, and, 
 ascending the platform, seated himself on 
 the throne, while John Ball took a place on 
 Lis right, and tlic Outlaw on liis left.
 
 26.2 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 From tliis elevated spot the three leaders 
 surveyed the lawless proceedings of the 
 throng, but did not choose to interfere. 
 
 While they were thus gazing around, they 
 perceived that a prisoner had just been 
 brought into the hall. 
 
 It was the seneschal, who had been seized 
 by Conrad Basset while endeavourin g to pre- 
 serve some valuables from the plunderers. 
 
 When he was recognised, the crowd would 
 have laid violent hands upon him, but Con- 
 rad kept them back, insisting that he should 
 be taken before Wat Tyler for judgment. 
 
 His arms being fastened behind his back 
 by a belt, so that he could offer no resistance, 
 the prisoner was dragged to the upper end 
 of the hall, amid the threats and outcries of 
 the assemblage. 
 
 A terrible sight greeted him. There, in 
 the Archbishop's throne, sat Wat Tyler, 
 leaning upon his sword, with his foot on a
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 2G3 
 
 stool. Beside him were the rehel monk and 
 the Outlaw. 
 
 With such judges, Siward knew that his 
 doom was sealed ; nevertheless, he main- 
 tained a firm demeanour. 
 
 Conrad and his captors now stepped back, 
 and left him standing alone. 
 
 At this moment, the wild uproar hitherto 
 prevailing in the hall suddenly ceased. 
 Amid this awful hush, Wat Tyler's stern 
 voice was heard. 
 
 " Thou art Michael Siward, seneschal, or 
 steward, to Simon de Sudbury, art thou 
 not ?" demanded the rebel leader. 
 
 " I am chief officer of the household of 
 his Grace the Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 who is likewise Lord High Chancellor of 
 England,'' replied Siwai'd, boldly. 
 
 " Then thou art servant to one who has 
 plundered the people," said AVat Tyler, yet 
 more sternly. " Thy master will have to
 
 264 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 give US an account of the revenues of Eng- 
 land, and of the large sums lie has levied 
 since the King's coronation." 
 
 " The Chancellor will render no account 
 to such vile wretches as you !" rejoined the 
 steward. " Were his Grace in your power — 
 which, thank Heaven, he is not — he would 
 treat you with as much scorn as I do. 
 Wreak your vengeance on me, if jou will, 
 but rest assured that a day of retribution 
 will arrive." • 
 
 " Thou speakest boldl}^ Siward," said 
 John Ball. " Such a man as thou art might 
 be of service to our righteous cause. Bear 
 testimony against th}^ master, and thy life 
 shall be spared." 
 
 " I will testify with my latest breath," 
 replied Siward, " that a better man doth not 
 exist than the Lord Chancellor; nor do I 
 believe that the affairs of the realm were 
 ever more wisely or more justly administered 
 than by his Grace."
 
 THE INSURRECTION. 265 
 
 " We will liear no more !" cried Wat 
 Tyler, in a furious tone, and starting to liis 
 feet as lie spoke. " Take the false knave 
 hence, and let him die as a traitor !" 
 
 " Traitor to whom ?" demanded Siward. 
 
 " To the people," rejoined John Ball. 
 
 The seneschal was then hurried out of 
 the hall and taken to the court, where he 
 was told to prepare for instant death. 
 
 Turning from the bloodthirsty throng 
 around him, and trying to shut his ears to 
 their furious cries, the brave old man cast 
 a look upwards at the golden angel on the 
 spire, which was visible from the spot, and 
 murmured a prayer. 
 
 A large billet of wood served the purpose 
 of an executioner's block, and Siward 's head 
 was severed from the trunk by a ferocious 
 ruffian, provided witli a sharp, two-handed 
 sword. 
 
 This tragical incident did not interfere 
 VOL. I. IS
 
 266 MERRY ENGLAND. 
 
 with the business of the insurgents, and 
 might have been forgotten if they had not 
 been reminded of it by the head of the 
 ill-fated seneschal, which was fixed on the 
 palace-gate. 
 
 Viands sufficient to furnish forth a ban- 
 quet were found in the great kitchen of the 
 palace; and the cellars being broken open, 
 yielded an abundant supply of wine. 
 
 Thus the rebel leaders, and a considerable 
 number of their followers, were enabled to 
 feast in the hall, while the rest continued 
 the work of destruction and pillage. 
 
 END OF VOL. I.
 

 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 
 
 3 0112 037327142