These bills were of course disallowed by the Council as presumptuous, and the King was exhorted to suppress the rebels by force. He thereupon moved from Westminster to Greenwich, but when he would have sent an army against the rebels the men refused to fight against those who “laboured to amende the Common Weale.” Then the King temporised, and since the rebels called out against Lord Saye, he committed him to the Tower to pacify them. He then returned to Westminster, and two days afterwards went against the rebels with 15,000 men. But they had withdrawn to Sevenoaks in Kent. Therefore the King sent off Sir Humphrey and William Stafford with a strong force to attack them. They did so, but with the unfortunate result that the force was cut up and all the men slain, and that Jack Cade and his men returned to Blackheath. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Duke of Buckingham held an interview with the leader and found him “discreet in his answers,” though he would not separate himself from his people.

The King and Queen, meanwhile, hearing of more adherents to Cade’s army and perceiving the spread of disaffection among their own people, left London for Kenilworth. Hearing of their departure the “Captain of Kent” entered Southwark, taking up his lodging at the “White Hart”—was it accidental or by design that he chose an Inn with the sign of Richard II.’ s badge? On the same day the Commons of Essex in great numbers encamped at Mile End.

The Chronicles and authorities differ as to the order and details of what followed. The broad outlines are clear. The authorities, who appear to have been at first terror-stricken, resolved on putting the City into a state of defence, chiefly on the exhortation of Robert Horne, Alderman and Stockfish-monger. They placed a guard at all the gates and at the lanes and stairs leading to the river; they forbade the sending of arms outside the City; they placed machines for throwing stones on the wharves; they gave every Alderman four men to assist him in keeping the peace in his ward; but, in spite of all, the rebels came in. There was no resistance, somebody—nobody knew who—got the keys in some mysterious manner and opened the Bridge. And somehow, the courageous Horne found himself in Newgate. Jack Cade’s symbolical action in regard to London Stone is quoted in every child’s history book. Shakespeare alludes to it in Henry VI. (Part II. Act iv. Scene 6)—

“Scene—Cannon Street. Enter Jack Cade with his followers. He strikes his staff on London Stone.

Cade. Now is Mortimer lord of this city.”

On the first day there was peace, no acts of violence were permitted. The rebels roamed at will about the London streets, and probably if they wanted anything they took it. In the evening most of them went home again. But some remained inside, and according to Gregory “searched,” i.e. robbed, all night. On the next day the real brutality of the mob showed itself. They arrested Lord Saye, the High Treasurer of England, and beheaded him in Chepe after a mock trial at the Guildhall, and in so great a hurry were they that they would not give him time to finish his confession. They also beheaded Sir James Crowmer, High Sheriff of Kent, at Mile End, one John Bayle at Whitechapel. Cade would also have beheaded Robert Horne, but his friends ransomed him for 500 marks. According to Fabyan it was after these murders—according to Gregory it was on the first day—that Cade began to pillage the rich merchants, commencing with Philip Malpas. “They spoyled him,” says Gregory, “ande bare away moche goode of hys and in specyalle moche money, both of sylvyr and golde, the valowe of a notabylle sum, and in specyalle of merchaundys as of tynne, woode, madyr, and alym, whythe grete quantyte of wollyn clothe and many ryche jewellys, whythe othyr notabylle stuffs of fedyr beddys, beddyng, napery, and many a ryche clothe of arys, to the valewe of a notabylle sum—nescio; sed Deus omnia scit.”

WHITE HART TAVERN, BISHOPSGATE STREET
From an old print.

Cade also robbed other merchants. Now since nothing so rouses a merchant to fury as the prospect of being robbed, the Aldermen met again and seriously determined that at all costs the rebels must be kept out. They therefore put their defence into the hands of Lord Scales, Lord Governor of the Tower. And then follows a battle, now forgotten, which should have been one of the most picturesque in the whole list of desperate fights. Like the famous Holding of the Bridge of Rome was the Holding of the Bridge of London by Matthew Gough and the citizens. It began on the night of Sunday, July the 5th, at ten “of the bell,” and it continued all night long, without stopping, till eight in the morning. Sometimes the Kentish men drove back the citizens, but never beyond the drawbridge: sometimes the citizens drove back the Kentish men, but never beyond the “bulwark” of the bridge. Matthew Gough, lieutenant of the Tower, was killed in the encounter, so was John Sutton, Alderman, with many other stout citizens and sturdy rebels. All night long, in the clear twilight of the season, while the quiet tide ebbed and flowed beneath the bridge, there were the clash of arms and shouts and groans until the early sun rose. Beyond the Bridge stood the citizens waiting for their turn, which never came, for no one could pass out or in, but the fighting men in the front surged backwards and forwards in a solid mass. And in the houses the people lay sleepless: trembling while the din of battle ceased not.