I do not think Somerset ever intended that commoners should have a say in running things. Though he made occasional concessions to the camp-men – such as agreeing to reform of the fee-farm of tolls on his own land at Thetford – these were very minor. There has been argument over whether another letter to the Thetford rebels actually acceded to the commons’ desire for a role in appointing commissioners, but the letter is so garbled that it is impossible to gather its meaning. 8 Somerset, by then, must have been under tremendous strain. Shagan’s argument – that the camps and Somerset were engaged in a dialogue, a mutual feedback system – flies in the face of the facts. What was happening was the reverse of a dialogue; it was a deception, an attempt by Somerset to buy time, and around 17 July (interestingly, the date the commissioners arrived in Kent but failed to get the Canterbury camp to disperse) he turned from appeasement to confrontation. False hopes had been created – in these circumstances it was not unreasonable for Robert Kett to hope for a sympathetic response, so that when the royal Herald arrived at Mousehold Heath on 21 July, the confrontational nature of his message can only have caused shock and anger, as I have portrayed in Tombland.
The coming of a royal Herald had been preceded by the delivery of a letter to Kett the day before. If, as is possible, this was Letter No. 2 appended to Shagan’s 1999 article quoted above, 9 it consisted of a particularly fierce diatribe, stating that it would allow the rebels to petition the coming Parliament with their grievances provided they dispersed. Otherwise it offered nothing new.
The Herald’s visit to the camp was a moment of high drama. He rode up to Mousehold from Norwich, accompanied by Codd and Aldrich and the city sword-bearer, Pettibone; he allowed himself to be led to the Oak of Reformation, and there delivered to the massed camp-men a proclamation that roundly abused them as traitors and, particularly, ‘Kett, man of mischief’. It offered a pardon to those who dispersed – and nothing else. Kett responded angrily that ‘hee had not offendid or deserved the Kings pardon and soe requird as many as would ... to take his part and remain’. 10 Neville reports Kett asking the company ‘not to leave him, nor to be fainthearted, but remember with what conditions they bound themselves, either to other, and that he for his part was ready to bestow his life (if need were) for their safetie’. 11 The Herald then accused Kett of high treason, and ordered Pettibone to arrest him, but the threatening demeanour of the camp-man forced the Herald’s party to flee. A minority (we do not know how many) did accept the pardon and left the camp, but the great majority remained. 12
Back in Norwich, the Herald ordered Codd and Aldrich to shut the gates against the rebels ‘and keepe them from victual’. 13 This emphasizes the importance, mentioned above, of Norwich market in feeding the rebels.
The Herald’s order to close off Norwich, almost certainly a fallback position ordered by Somerset, was extremely foolish, for it left the camp-men with no alternative but to invade and breach the weak city walls. The Herald remained in the city, proclaiming his message there, perhaps hoping for the townspeople’s support, but once again he was gravely mistaken; Sotherton reports that ‘soon after they perceived that through ye falsehood of many of their citizens the said rebels were entried [entered].’ 1
Next morning, 22 July, the camp-men launched a full-scale invasion, having first attempted and failed to negotiate a peaceful entry. 2 Half a dozen cannon from the castle had been brought within range of the rebels, but neither the city’s gunners nor the rebels with their own guns showed (at this stage) any skill in aiming, although the city bowmen on the walls (probably servants of leading citizens, constables, and soldiers from Norwich Castle) caused many casualties. There were two huge charges down the hill towards Bishopsgate Bridge, the crucial strategic point: the first failed but the second succeeded by force of numbers. According to Sotherton, ‘vagabond boys ... came emong the thickett of the arrows and gathered them up when some of the seid arrows stuck fast in their leggs’. 3 ‘Boys’ in Tudor usage meant young unmarried men; the story of pulling out the arrows is plausible if, as is likely, practice arrows without barbed heads were used. The charges displayed the fierce courage that the rebels were to display from now on. They were helped by supporters in the city calling out that the enemy were within the walls, to distract city forces from Bishopsgate Bridge. 4
The whole of Norwich was now annexed to the rebel camp; its six cannon were taken up to Mousehold. Codd, Aldrich and other leading citizens were taken prisoner, except for one leading Alderman, Augustine Steward, whom Kett appointed his deputy in the city to keep order (though no doubt aware of the limits of his loyalty.) After an initial few days of looting, the city, like the camp, was kept in remarkably good order; the defenders on the walls were now from the camp. The Herald fled back to London. Trials at the Oak continued, now including senior citizens of Norwich, where according to Neville ‘if they [the camp-men] found nothing of the man in question, cryed out, A good man, hee is a good man; and therefore ought to be set at liberty. But ... if ... hee had offended any one of them ... The common sort followed, as it were stirred up of the furies, “let him be hanged.”’ 5 Given that no gentleman was ever named as hanged at the camp, either Neville was romancing or, more likely, the camp leaders refused to allow it to happen.
The number of Mousehold men who perished in the fierce assault is not known, but is unlikely to be less than a hundred. Now a new reality must have entered camp life – sudden death, grief for fallen comrades, family or friends. But they remained determined not to budge.
It is not known how much territory Kett controlled from Mousehold; Land suggests fifteen to twenty miles. 6 Attempts were made to expand into north and central Norfolk in July. Late in the month a camp was formed near King’s Lynn, probably aimed at its capture. However the local gentry – who, having recovered from their initial shock, were now becoming organized – managed to dislodge the insurgents, who withdrew twenty-five miles south to Watton, on the road from London, possibly to try and impede the army that was now expected to come from there. Early in August they abandoned the site and joined the Mousehold camp.
A separate camp was formed at Hingham, fifteen miles from Norwich, again perhaps to protect the road to London; however they were attacked and dispersed by a local force under Sir Edmund Knyvett.
Meanwhile a small group from Suffolk marched against Great Yarmouth, but the townspeople refused to admit the rebels. Thus all attempts to spread the camp’s area of control, including what would have been the significant prizes of Norfolk’s two major ports, failed. And news soon reached the camp of the preparation of an army in London.
What were the rebels to do now? Kett’s original strategy (not unreasonable given Somerset’s promises of reform) had failed. The camp had two choices: fight or surrender. If they fought and won, they might win concessions from Somerset and even spread rebellion further. London was quiet, but martial law had been declared and rebellion there was feared. 7 If they surrendered, many must have feared, given what they had done to the gentry, that they would be massacred. And as we shall see, there were many who believed the forces coming against them had not been sent by Somerset at all, but by local gentry and their sympathizers on the Council. Among many, the failure to realize what sort of man Somerset actually was persisted to the end.