Palace, and put it in his breast, that they drowned him in the river, cup and all. 6. The young king had been taken out to treat with them before they committed these excesses; but he and the people about him were so frightened by the riotous shouts, that they got back to the Tower in the best way they could. This made the insurgents bolder; so they went on rioting away, striking off the heads of those who did not, at a moment's notice, declare for King Richard and the people; and killing as many of the unpopular persons whom they supposed to be their enemies as they could by any means lay hold of. In this manner they passed one very violent day, and then proclamation was made that the king would meet them at Mile-end, and grant their requests. 7. The rioters went to Mile-end, to the number of sixty thousand, and the king met them there; and to the king the rioters peaceably proposed four conditions. First, that neither they nor their children, nor any coming after them, should be made slaves any more. Secondly, that the rent of land should be fixed at a certain price in money, instead of being paid in service. Thirdly, that they should have liberty to buy and sell in all markets and public places, like other free men. Fourthly, that they should be pardoned for past offenses. Heaven knows there was nothing very unreasonable in these proposals. The young king deceitfully pretended to think so, and kept thirty clerks up all night writing out a charter accordingly. 8. Now, Wat Tyler himself wanted more than this. He wanted the entire abolition of the forest laws. He was not at Mile-end with the rest, but, while that meeting was being held, broke into the Tower of London and slew the archbishop and the treasurer, for whose heads the people had cried out loudly the day before. He and his men even thrust their swords into the bed of the Princess of Wales while the princess was in it, to make certain that none of their enemies were concealed there. 9. So Wat and his men still continued armed, and rode about the city. Next morning the king, with a small train of sixty gentlemen-among whom was WALWORTH, the Mayor,rode into Smithfield, and saw Wat and his people at a little distance. Says Wat to his men, "There is the king. I will go speak with him, and tell him what we want." Straightway Wat rode up to him, and began to talk. "King," says Wat, "dost thou see all my men there?" "Ah," says the king. “Why?” 10. Because," says Wat, "they are all at my command, and have sworn to do whatever I bid them." Some declared afterward that as Wat said this, he laid his hand on the king's bridle. Others declared that he was seen to play with his own dagger. I think, myself, that he just spoke to the king like a rough, angry man as he was, and did nothing more. At any rate, he was expecting no attack, and preparing for no resistance, when Walworth, the Mayor, did the not very valiant deed of drawing a short sword, and stabbing him in the throat. He dropped from his horse, and one of the king's people speedily finished him. 11. So fell Wat Tyler. Fawners and flatterers made a mighty triumph of it, and set up a cry which will occasionally find an echo to this day. But Wat was a hard-working man, who had suffered much, and had been foully outraged; and it is probable that he was a man of a much higher nature and a much braver spirit than any of the parasites who exulted then, or have exulted since, over his defeat. 12. Seeing Wat down, his men immediately bent their bows to avenge his fall. If the young king had not had presence of mind at that dangerous moment, both he, and the mayor to boot, might have followed Tyler pretty fast. But the king, riding up to the crowd, cried out that Tyler was a traitor, and that he would be their leader. They were so taken by surprise that they set up a great shouting, and followed the boy until he was met at Islington by a large body of soldiers. 13. The end of this rising was the then usual end. As soon as the king found himself safe, he unsaid all he had said, and undid all he had done; some fifteen hundred of the rioters were tried (mostly in Essex) with great rigor, and executed with great cruelty. Many of them were hanged on gibbets, and left there as a terror to the country people; and because their miserable friends took some of the bodies down to bury, the king ordered the rest to be chained up-which was the beginning of the barbarous custom of hanging in chains. Extract from the Drama of Wat Tyler.-Southey. ACT II., SCENE III.-Smithfield. WAT TYLER, JOHN BALL, HOB CARTER, PIERS, etc. Mob. Piers. So far triumphant are we. How these nobles, These petty tyrants, who so long oppress'd us, Shrink at the first resistance! Hob. Only because we fondly thought them so. Where is Jack Straw? Tyler. They were powerful Jack Straw is gone to the Tower To seize the king, and so to end resistance. [ding John Ball. It was well judged; fain would I spare the shed Of human blood: gain we that royal puppet, Enter HERALD. Herald. Richard the Second, by the grace of God, Of England, Ireland, France, and Scotland, king, Would parley with Wat Tyler. Tyler. Let him know Wat Tyler is in Smithfield. [Exit HERALD.] I will parley Trusting my honor, on your lives, I charge you, John Ball. The faith of courts Is but a weak dependence. You are honest And better is it even to die the victim By the cold policy that still suspects. Enter KING, WALWORTH, PHILPOT, etc. King. I would speak to thee, Wat Tyler: bid the mob Retire awhile. Piers. Nay, do not go alone Let me attend you. Tyler. [Advances. King. Tyler, why have you killed my officer, Petitioning for pity is most weak— King of England, The sovereign people ought to demand justice. To force upon the French a king they hate, Why is this ruinous poll-tax imposed, And your mad title to the crown of France? Must we lie tamely at our tyrant's feet, And, like your spaniels, lick the hand that beats us? You sit at ease in your gay palaces! The costly banquet courts your appetite; Sweet music soothes your slumbers: we, the while, Scarce by hard toil can earn a little food, And sleep scarce shelter'd from the cold night wind; We toil and sweat for money for your taxes: The birds of heaven, your own?-prohibiting us, And tyrants tremble-mark me, King of England! Piers. Vengeance! Vengeance! Hob. Seize the king. King. I must be bold (advancing). My friends and loving subjects, I will grant you all you ask; you shall be free- |