Darnley; or, The Field of the Cloth of Gold

by G. P. R. James

So saying he raised his lance, and rode forward to the spot where the ringleader waited him; plainly discerning, as he approached nearer to the body of the rioters, the poor priest, with a rope round his neck, holding forth his hands towards him, as if praying for assistance.

"My shield-bearer," said he, "tells me that we are to pass each other without enmity; for though we are well prepared to resist attack, we have no commission to meddle with you or yours. Nevertheless, as I understand that ye have a priest in your hands, towards whom ye meditate some harm, let me warn you of the consequences of injuring an old man who cannot have injured you."

"But he has done worse than injured me, sir knight," said the ringleader; "he has preached against our cause, and against redressing our grievances."

"Most probably not against redressing your grievances," said Sir Osborne, "but against the method ye took to redress them yourselves. But listen to me. It is probable that the king, hearing of your wants and wishes, he being known both for just and merciful, may grant you such relief as only a king can grant; but if ye go to stain yourselves with the blood of this priest, which were cowardly, as he is an old man; which were base, as he is a prisoner; and which were sacrilegious, as he is a man of God, ye cut yourselves off from mercy for ever, and range all good men amongst your enemies. Think well of this!"

"By the nose of the tinker of Ashford!" said the man, "your worship is right. But how the devil to get him out of their hands? that's the job; however, I'll make 'em a 'ration. But what I was wanting to ask your worship is, do you know his grace the king?"

"Not in the least," was the laconic reply of the knight.

"Then it won't do," said the man; "only, as merry Dick Heartley said you were thick with the good Duke of Buckingham, I thought you might know the king too, and would give him our petition and remonstrance. However, I'll go and make them fellows a 'ration: they're wonderful soon led by a 'ration." And turning his horse, he rode up to the front of the body of rioters, and made them a speech, wherein nonsense and sense, bombast and vulgarity, were all most intimately mingled. Sir Osborne did not catch the whole, but the sounds which reached his ears were somewhat to the following effect:

"Most noble shipwrights and devout cannon-founders, joined together in the great cause of crying down taxation and raising your wages! To you I speak, as well as to the tinkers, tailors, and 'prentices who have united themselves to you. The noble knight that you see standing there, or rather riding, because he is on horseback: he in the glittering armour, with a long spear in his hand, is the dearly beloved friend of the great and good Duke of Buckingham, who is the friend of the commons and an enemy to taxation."

Here loud cries of "Long live the Duke of Buckingham!" "God bless the duke!" interrupted the speaker; but after a moment he proceeded. "He, the noble knight, is not Lord Thomas Howard; and so far from wishing to attack you, he would wish to do you good. Therefore he setteth forth and showeth--praise be to God for all things, especially that we did not hang the priest!--that if we were to hang the priest, it would be blasphemous, because he is an old man; and rascally, because he is a man of God; and moreover, that whereas, if we do not, the king will grant us our petition. He will infallibly come down, if we do, with an army of fifty thousand men, and hang us all with his own hands, and the Duke of Buckingham will be against us. Now understand! I am not speaking for myself, for I know well enough that, having been elected your captain, and ridden on horseback while ye marched on foot, I am sure to be hanged anyhow; but that is no reason that ye should all be hanged too; and, therefore, I give my vote that Simon the cannon-founder, Tom the shipwright, and long-chinned Billy the tinker, do take the priest by the rope that is round his neck, and deliver him into the hands of the knight and his men, to do with as they shall think fit. And that after this glorious achievement we march straightway back to Rochester. Do you all agree?"

Loud shouts proclaimed the assent of the multitude; and with various formalities the three deputies led forth the unhappy priest, more dead than alive, and delivered him into the hands of Longpole: after which the generalissimo of the rioters drew up his men with some military skill upon the right of the green, leaving the road free to Sir Osborne. The knight then marshalled his little party as best he might, to guard against any sudden change in the minds of the fickle multitude; and having mounted the poor exhausted priest behind one of the horsemen, he drew out from the lane, and passed unmolested across the green into the opposite road, returning nothing but silence to the cheers with which the rioters thought fit to honour them.