Shall fill the vale of Dussin’s Dale
With slaughtered bodies soon.
Dussin’s Dale was, and is, outside Norwich, and the picture of a rural revenge was thus presented to the rustics, who had long suffered from manorial encroachments.
The initial incidents of the outbreak happened upon this very road from Wymondham into Norwich, when the new fences erected by a local landowner upon Attleborough Common were demolished on June 20th, 1549. A fortnight later new hedges at Morley and Hethersett were destroyed. The destruction of those at Hethersett brought about the rising. It seems that the land-grabber of that place was one Serjeant Flowerdew, between whom and the Ketts of Wymondham there was a violent enmity. The Ketts were substantial folks, engaged in tanning. It cannot be said that they were blameless, for they, too, had enclosed; but had set the crowd on to destroy Flowerdew’s landmarks without considering their own case. The Serjeant naturally retorted by instigating the rustics in turn to level and tear into fragments the hedges and palings of the Ketts, who in the meanwhile seemed to have found salvation, for they not only permitted this work of vengeance on their own illegal enclosures, but heartily joined in it themselves. When this work was completed, and having thus proved their sincerity, the two brothers headed the mob back to Hethersett and destroyed what remained of Flowerdew’s enclosures; marching on to Cringleford and meeting the High Sheriff, who had heard of these riotous proceedings, and now admonished the people to return home. So far, however, from doing so, they put the Sheriff to flight, and, boldly setting forth upon an armed movement for reform, laid waste an enclosure beside the approach to Norwich, and, in defiance of the Mayor, marched round the city, climbed to the high ground of Hellesdon, and, reaching Mousehold Heath, pitched their camp there
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Some years earlier a short-lived but significant movement had been set afoot by one self-styled “John Amend-all,” whose name is sufficient earnest of there being wrongs grievously calling for justice to be done. It had then been said that three or four stout fellows, riding overnight through the towns of Norfolk, with bell-ringing and exhortations to rise, would by morning have collected 10,000 men, and it was now perceived that this had been no idle talk; for 16,000 peasants joined the camp on Mousehold Heath, whence the Ketts and the leading spirits despatched a very moderate and fair-minded petition to the King for redress of their grievances.
Norwich, as the place of residence of many landowners and, as a manufacturing centre, quite out of sympathy with the country people, was meanwhile practically invested by the rebels, who from the commanding heights of Mousehold intercepted everything going in or coming out. There for more than a fortnight they lay, the summer weather in alliance with them, and with raiding parties looting cattle and provisions from all quarters for the feeding of this rustic host, which by this time had increased to 20,000.
Never did rebellion begin in more orderly fashion, for the Ketts, with their chaplain, Conyers, held open-air court on the Heath, and conducted things decently and in order. Food they were obliged to seize, but no violence and no robbery were permitted, and had the Government returned an answer showing any disposition to relieve the peasants from the landlords’ exactions and aggressions, all would have been well. But vague promises, coupled with an offer of pardon for all concerned if they would first disperse and return to their homes, was all the satisfaction they received; and Robert Kett very rightly retorted to the herald who brought this message that “Kings were wont to pardon wicked persons, not innocent and just men.”
Norwich then prepared itself for attack. The Bishop’s Bridge over the Wensum, and the gate that then straddled across it, were put in a condition for defence against the expected descent from Mousehold, and pieces of cannon were mounted on the quays. The next morning the assault was delivered, and Kett’s men, although many were slain by arrow-flights from the defenders, swarmed across the river and seizing the guns, which had refused to shoot, were soon masters of the city. The Mayor, Mr. Alderman Codd, and the principal citizens were made prisoners and marched up to “Kett’s Castle” on Mousehold, where they doubtless expected a violent death, Robert Kett sending down a message that any one coming to Mousehold should have a Codd’s head for a penny. But that was only his humour, with nothing tragical at the back of it, for the worst that befell those prisoners was the being made ridiculous in a mock-court held on the Heath.
Norwich, in despair, welcomed the tardy arrival of some 2,500 men, chiefly Italian mercenaries, under the command of the Marquis of Northampton, but they made little impression, and one of the aliens, being captured, was stripped of his armour and hanged. On August 1st there was renewed fighting in the streets, and Lord Sheffield was killed, at a spot still marked by an inscribed stone. This first force sent against the rebels was by this time defeated with heavy loss, and Norwich remained in the hands of the victorious peasants until August 23rd, when a second expedition, cautiously feeling its way through disaffected East Anglia, appeared at the entrance of the city by St. Stephen’s Gate.