But John Ball was not now in that throng, nor Jack Straw; they had fled away.
And now came Sir Robert Knollys with his knights and men-at-arms, retainers, surrounding the peasants that were as patient as silly sheep, for they looked upon their young shepherd and trusted him. So when certain of those soldiers would have fallen upon the people to slay them, King Richard arose in his saddle and forbade them, saying in anger:—
“These are my children,—mine! mine!—Let not a hair of their heads be harmed. If they had hearts of men, might they not slay me even now, beholding this foul ambush by which they are taken? But they are as babes doing my bidding. They have faith, even though I lead them into bondage.”
Then he burst into tears, very passionate, and screamed loud and hoarse:—
“I have set them free! Do ye hearken?—I have set them free,—free! O Christ, I am not traitor to my people!”
My Lord Salisbury likewise forbade violence, and Richard, when he had dried his tears and got his voice, spoke again to the people and made them to know as how the men of Kent must homeward, and others in peace to north and west. And when they had set forth obedient, Richard rode into the city, the light as of a conqueror in his eyes. Nevertheless, behind this there lurked the look of fear.
Meanwhile in Smithfield Wat Tyler lay dead of his wounds. And when Richard led the peasants out to Clerkenwell, and the nobles rode into the city to bring succour, Stephen only remained. But presently John Ball came forth of a house, and when they two saw that no man hindered, they took up the body of poor Wat and bore it within the Church of St. Bartholomew and laid it decently at the east end of the nave.
“Wat hath lost us London,” said John Ball. “But who might believe that true knights and noble gentlemen would so sin against courtesy! Our hope now is to keep the shires stirring. I 'll not stay in this death-trap, but carry the spark to northward. Yorkshire ought to be up by now, if the message carried, and Cheshire, and Somerset. God keep thee, brother! While the breath 's in our bodies we may fan the flame.” The priest was gone, and Stephen sat him down by the body to watch.
So after the day was won and the peasants scattered, Mayor Walworth bethought him of Wat Tyler and came again to Smithfield to seek him. But finding naught except blood where the dead man had fallen, he searched diligently, as did two aldermen that were with him, and in the end they found that they sought.
“Have him forth!” said the Mayor. “'T is no place for traitors in a church.”