The news of this occurrence spread like wildfire through the town. The people all took Walter's part, and they began to assemble. It seems that a great many of them had had their daughters maltreated in the same way by the tax-gatherers, but had not dared to resist or to complain. They now, however, flocked around the house of Walter, and promised to stand by him to the end. The plan was proposed that they should march to London, and in a body appeal to the king, and call upon him to redress their wrongs.
"He is young," said they, "and he will have pity upon us, and be just to us. Let us go in a body and petition him."
The news of the movement spread to all the neighboring towns, and very soon afterward a vast concourse collected, and commenced their march toward London. They were joined on the road by large companies that came from the villages and towns on the way, until at length Walter and his fellow-leaders found themselves at the head of from sixty to one hundred thousand men.
[Illustration: VIEW OF THE TOWER OF LONDON, AS SEEN FROM THE RIVER.]
The whole country was, of course, thrown into a state of great alarm. The Duke of Lancaster, who was particularly obnoxious to the people, was absent at this time. He was on the frontiers of Scotland. The king was in his palace; but, on hearing tidings of the insurrection, he went to the Tower, which is a strong castle built on the banks of the river, in the lower part of London. A number of the nobles who had most cause to fear the mob went with him, and shut themselves up there. The Princess of Wales, Richard's mother, happened to be at Canterbury at the time, having gone there on a pilgrimage. She immediately set out on her return to London, but she was intercepted on the way by Tyler and his crowd of followers. The crowd gathered around the carriage, and frightened the princess very much indeed, but they did her no harm. After detaining her for some time, they let her pass on. She immediately made the best of her way to the Tower, where she joined her son.
As fast as companies of men came from the villages and towns along the road to join the insurgents, the leaders administered to them an oath. The oath bound them,
1. Always to be faithful and true to King Richard.
2. Never to submit to the reign of any king named John. This
was aimed at the Duke of Lancaster, whose name was John, and
whom they all specially hated.
3. Always to follow and defend their leaders whenever called
upon to do so, and always to be ready to march themselves,
and to bring their neighbors with them, at a moment's
warning.
4. To demand the abrogation of all the obnoxious taxes, and
never to submit again to the collection of them.
In this manner the throngs moved on along the roads leading to London. They became gradually more and more excited and violent as they proceeded. Soon they began to attack the houses of knights, and nobles, and officers of the government which they passed on the way; and many persons, whom they supposed to be their enemies, they killed. At Canterbury they pillaged the palace of the archbishop. The Archbishop of Canterbury, then as now, drew an immense revenue from the state, and lived in great splendor, and they justly conceived that the luxury and ostentation in which he indulged was in some degree the cause of the oppressive taxation that they endured.
They assaulted a castle on the way, and made prisoner of a certain knight named Sir John Newton, whom they found in it, and compelled him to go with them to London. The knight was very unwilling to go with them, and at first seemed determined not to do so; but they disposed of his objections in a very summary manner.
"Sir John," said they, "unless you go with us at once, and in every thing do exactly as we order you, you are a dead man."
So Sir John was compelled to go. They took two of his children with them also, to hold as security, they said, for their father's good behavior.
There were other parties of the insurgents who made prisoners in this way of men of rank and family, and compelled them to ride at the head of their respective columns, as if they were leaders in the insurrection.
In this manner the throngs moved on, until at length, approaching the Thames, they arrived at Blackheath and Greenwich, two villages below London, farther down than the Tower, and near the bank of the river. Here they halted, and determined to send an embassage to the king to demand an audience. The embassador that they were to send was the knight, Sir John Newton.
Sir John did not dare to do otherwise than as the insurgents directed. He went to the river, and, taking a boat, he crossed over to the Tower. The guards received him at the gate, and he was conducted into the presence of the king.
He found the king in an apartment with the princess his mother, and with a number of the nobles and officers of his court. They were all in a state of great suspense and anxiety, awaiting tidings. They knew that the whole country was in commotion, but in respect to what they were themselves to do in the emergency they seem to have had no idea.
Sir John was himself one of the officers of the government, and so he was well known to all the courtiers. He fell on his knees as soon as he entered the king's presence, and begged his majesty not to be displeased with him for the message that he was about to deliver.
"I assure your majesty," said he, "that I come not voluntarily, but on compulsion."
The king said to him that he had nothing to fear, and directed him to proceed at once and deliver his message.
The knight then said that the people who had assembled wished to see the king, and he urgently requested that his majesty would come and meet them at Blackheath.
"They wish you to come by yourself alone," said he. "And your majesty need have no fear for your person, for they will not do you the least harm. They have always respected you, and they will continue to respect and honor you as their king. They only wish to tell you some things which they say it is very necessary that your majesty should hear. They have not informed me what it is that they wish to say, since they desire to communicate it themselves directly to your majesty."
The knight concluded by imploring the king to grant his subjects a favorable answer if he could, or at least to allow him to return to them with such a reply as would convince them that he, their messenger, had fairly delivered his message.
"Because," said he, "they hold my children as hostages, and unless I return they will surely put them to death."
The king replied that the knight should have an answer very soon, and he immediately called a council of his courtiers to consider what should be done. There was much difference of opinion, but it was finally concluded to send word to the men that the king would come down the river on the following day to speak with them, and that, if the leaders would come to the bank of the river opposite Blackheath, he would meet them there.
So Sir John Newton left the Tower, and, recrossing the river in his boat, went back to the camp of the insurgents, and reported to the leaders the answer of the king.
They were very much pleased to hear that the king was coming to meet them. The news was soon communicated to all the host, and it gave universal satisfaction. There were sixty thousand men on the ground, it is said, and, of course, they were very insufficiently provided with food, and not at all with shelter. They, however, began to make arrangements to spend the night as well as they could where they were, in anticipation of the interview with the king on the following day.
On the following morning the king attended mass in solemn state in the chapel of the Tower, and then immediately afterward entered his barge, accompanied by a grand train of officers, knights, and barons. The barge, leaving the Tower stairs, was rowed down the river to the place appointed for the interview. About ten thousand of the insurgents had come to the spot, and when they saw the barge coming in sight with the royal party on board, they burst out into such a terrific uproar, with yells, screams, shouts, outcries, and frantic gesticulations, that they seemed to the king and his party like a company of demons. They had Sir John Newton with them. They had brought him down to the bank of the river, because, as they said, if the king were not to come, they should believe that he had imposed upon them in the message which he had brought, and in that case they were going to cut him to pieces on the spot.