So Calote and Stephen went up to Thames by the Rotherhithe shore, and as they went they met a great rout of Essex men come across the river. They had three bloody heads on poles, the which they bore for banners, and these were three clerks that served the tax-collector was driven out of Brentwood the last week in May. Crows flew squawking round about these heads. Meanwhile, the men strode on, chaunting:—
“'Jack Trueman doth you to understand that falseness and guile have reigned too long.'”
And they told Stephen and Calote as how other Essex men were encamped t' other side the river before Aldgate, to keep the city from that side. And these other were Jack Straw's men.
And Calote and Stephen went down to the water's edge and stood with the throng that waited for the King.
An hour they waited, singing, jostling, and in the end the royal barge came down the river with Richard standing in the prow, and that old warrior and very perfect gentleman, the Earl of Salisbury, at his right hand. In the midst of the boat Sudbury stood, and Hales, and when the folk on shore saw these two they set up a shout of—
“Traitors!—Give up the traitors!—The Chancellor!—The Chancellor!—Poll-tax is his!—'T is Simon Sudbury taxed us!—They shall be slain!”
Whereupon my Lord of Salisbury made a sign to the rowers that they should cease rowing, which they did, and the barge stood still in the stream.
“How shall these jack-fools be hushed?” said Stephen. “They spoil all!”
Then Calote wound the King's horn, once, twice, thrice, and in the silence that followed after, Stephen put his hand to his mouth and shouted: “A parley! A parley!” and after: “My Lord King, beseech thee come hither, and alone, to speak with thy people. Shall none harm come to thee.”
“A demand most uncourtly strange, Etienne Fitzwarine,” cried the Earl of Salisbury, “that the King's person be sent unguarded among a pack of rebels. It may not be.”