But they were John of Gaunt’s men; and he did not wish them to be replaced. It suited him to have his supporters in important posts and that of the Constable of the Tower was a very special one.
The matter should be hushed up, said John of Gaunt. What a fuss over a foolish man who had tried to defy the King and the Government. The hostage was now in the Government’s hands and the matter could be satisfactorily settled. One of the squires was free and he should have learned a lesson. As for the other, his had been a more bitter lesson; let it serve as an example to others who might try to take the law into their hands.
The Church hesitated for a while. It was not advisable to enter into open conflict with the State. On the other hand it was equally unwise to give way. It was Courtenay, the Bishop of London, who had shown his boldness on more than one occasion who decided to take action.
In a ceremony at St Paul’s he solemnly excommunicated Sir Alan Buxhull, Sir Ralf Ferrers and all those directly or indirectly concerned in the murder.
The Bishop had openly stated that he was not including the Duke of Lancaster and the Queen Mother in the excommunication and by letting this be known he was implying that they were in measure responsible for what had happened.
It was the battle between Church and State again; and as John of Gaunt was supporting Wycliffe who wanted changes in the Church it seemed in keeping with his views that he should now be supporting one who allowed the Abbey to be defiled.
John of Gaunt had in truth had no part in the murder but as people began to take sides he threw himself into the quarrel. He wanted to go against his old enemy the Bishop of London and while, had he kept quiet, it could have been a quarrel between the Bishop and the monks against the King’s Council, because of his interest in it, it became more significant.
When the Bishop was summoned to appear before the Council at Windsor he refused to attend and John was so rash as to exclaim in the presence of many who would lose no time in reporting what he had said, ‘I will drag the Bishop here in spite of the ribald knaves of London.’
The quarrel had broken out afresh.
Now people were asking what had happened to all the money which had been raised for the fleet and the army. There followed an uneasy period when accounts were examined but John was able to prove that the money had been spent in a proper manner.
More serious still there was trouble brewing throughout the countryside. In the villages men talked together; they were asking themselves why they should work so hard and for so little; why they should be the slaves of their masters?
The Black Death had made them aware of their importance. There had been a time when there were not enough labourers to till the land; then they had asked for higher wages and a law had been made against them. This law had said they must work on the same terms for their masters as they had before the coming of the plague which meant even more hardship, for the cost of living had risen after the fearful scourge had passed over; so instead of being richer, as they should have been since their labour was in greater demand, they were poorer than they had been before.
It seemed to them that the masters worked everything out to their own advantage.
And now because of this war with the French which went on and on, there was a new tax – the Poll Tax which people were to pay according to their incomes. Archbishops and Dukes paid six pounds, thirteen shillings and fourpence each and an ordinary labourer was charged fourpence.
In spite of this order the money was not forthcoming and it was necessary to send collectors through the towns and villages to enforce payment.
The law was that every person over fifteen must pay.
Richard had been four years on the throne, and they had been four depressing years. At the end of them the country was in a worse condition than it had been at the death of the old King. The French were troublesome; the Scots were taking advantage of the situation; the bogey of the nation was John of Gaunt who had failed miserably in his expeditions on the Continent. There was a rustling of rebellion throughout the country and it was growing louder. Discontent was rife among the peasants. They were asking each other why it should be that men were condemned to work for others all their lives. Who decided whether a man should be a villein or a lord?
Those in high places were unaware of what was happening. They could not see the gathering storm until it burst upon them.
Chapter IX
WAT TYLER
There was one man who believed so fervently that there was a great deal wrong with life as it was lived in England that he was determined to give his life if necessary to change it.
This was John Ball, a priest who had begun his career in the Abbey of St Mary’s in York. He had very soon found himself in conflict with the authorities because not only did he hold controversial views but he would not stop talking about them.
He had seen what had happened after the Black Death and he deplored the fact that although workers on the land had been seen to be important to the well-being of the country they continued to be treated as serfs; and when their labour was in great demand and there was every reason to suppose they might have asked a higher wage for their services, they had been completely subdued by their masters and forced to work at the same wage as they had received when there were plenty of them.
Why, he asked himself and others, should some, merely on account of where they were born, live on the fruits of other men’s labours?
His watchword was:
‘When Adam delf and Eve span
Who was then the gentleman?’
It was his favourite theme. Had we not all come from Adam and Eve? The scriptures told us so. Why then should some of us be favoured above others?
John Ball was a born preacher. He loved to talk and took a great pleasure in expounding his views to others. He would go to the village green and the people would crowd round him to listen to his sermons. They were different from any other sermons they had ever heard. His views on the Church were similar to those of Wycliffe; but in addition to the reform of the church John Ball wanted the reform of society.
After listening to him the villeins would return to their dark hovels and their meagre fare and would think of the mansion close by in which lived the lord of the manor. He was waited on by countless servants; his table was weighed down with good things to eat. Those who served in his kitchens counted themselves fortunate, for a few crumbs from the rich man’s table fell to them. And yet, argued John Ball, how had this happened? They all had the same forebears, did they not? Adam and Eve? And yet some had been born in mansions, others in dark hovels, some under a hedge maybe.
It was fascinating to listen to him and that which many had accepted before as God’s will, they now questioned.
It was not long before John Ball was noticed, as anyone preaching such a doctrine must be. Moreover whenever he preached, people flocked to hear him. It was disconcerting. More than that. It was dangerous.
On Sundays he would wait until the people came out from Mass and then start preaching in the market square. He had a magnetic quality and many found it impossible to pass on. Moreover his words were so arresting. They had certainly never heard the like before.
One day he was at his usual place and was soon addressing the crowd.
‘My good friends,’ he cried. ‘Things cannot go well in England or ever will until everything shall be in common, when there shall be neither villein nor lord, and all distinctions levelled, when the lords shall be no more masters than ourselves. How ill they have used us! And for what reason do they keep us in bondage? Are we not all descended from the same parents, Adam and Eve, and what reasons can they give, why they should be more masters than ourselves – except perhaps in making us labour for them to spend. They are clothed in velvets and rich stuffs, ornamented with ermine and other furs, while we are forced to wear poor cloth. They have wines, spices and fine bread while we have only rye and the refuse of the straw; and if we drink it must be water. They have handsome seats and manors when we must brave the wind and rain in the field. And, my friends, it is from our labour that they have the wherewithal to support this pomp. What else should you lack when you lack masters? You should not lack for fields you have tilled nor houses you have built, nor cloth you have woven. Why should one man mow the earth for another?’