WAT TYLER
That evening Mr. Ormskirk continued the subject of his talk of the
afternoon.
"You looked surprised, Edgar, when I said that I told Sir Ralph I had
made some preparations for defence, and that some of the compounds in
my laboratory are as dangerous as the common people regard them,
although that danger has naught to do with any magical property. You
must know that many substances, while wholly innocent in themselves,
are capable of dealing wide destruction when they are mixed together;
for example, saltpetre, charcoal, and sulphur, which, as Friar Bacon
discovered, make, when mixed together, a powder whose explosive power
is well-nigh beyond belief, and which is now coming into use as a
destructive agent in war. Many other compounds can be produced of
explosive nature, some indeed of such powerful and sudden action that
we dare not even make experiments with them.
"Many other strange things have been discovered, some of which may seem
useless at present, but may, upon further experiments on their
properties, turn out of value to man. Such a substance I discovered two
years ago. I was experimenting upon bones, and endeavouring to
ascertain whether a powder might not be procured which, when mixed with
other substances, would produce unexpected results. After calcining the
bones, I treated the white ash with various acids and alkaloids, and
with fire and water, returning again and again to the trials when I had
time. While conducting these experiments, I found that there was
certainly some substance present with whose nature I was altogether
unacquainted.
"One evening, going into the laboratory after dark, I observed with
astonishment what looked like a lambent flame upon the table. In my
alarm I ran forward to put it out, but found that there was no heat in
it; lighting my lamp I could no longer see it, but on the table I found
a few grains of the stuff I had been experimenting on. Turning out the
lamp the light was again visible, and after much thought I concluded
that it was similar to the light given by the little creatures called
glowworms, and which in its turn somewhat resembles the light that can
be seen at times in a pile of decaying fish. I tried many experiments,
but as nothing came of them I gave them up, not seeing that any use
could come of a fire that gave out no heat. I produced a powder,
however, that when rubbed on any substance, became luminous in the
dark, presenting an appearance strange and sufficiently alarming to the
ignorant.
"Thinking the matter over some time ago, I took a little of this powder
from the phial in which I had stored it away, and, moistening it,
rubbed it on the wall in the form of circles, triangles, and other
signs. I did this just before it became dark. As the moisture dried,
these figures gradually assumed a luminous appearance. I saw the use to
which this could be put in awing a mob, and, setting to work, made a
large supply of this powder."
"How long does it retain its light, father?"
"That is uncertain. For some hours in a darkened room, the light
gradually growing fainter, but if a bright day follows, the figures
stand out on the following night as brightly as before; while if the
day is dull they show up but faintly at night. I see not that any use
can come of such a thing, for the light is at all times too faint to be
used for reading unless the page is held quite close to it. Come
downstairs with me and I will show you the head of one of the old Roman
statues that was dug up near Rochester, and which I bought for a few
pence last year."
They went down into the laboratory. The light was burning. "There you
see, Edgar, I have painted this head with the stuff, and now you can
see nothing more unusual than if it had been daubed with whitewash. Now
I will extinguish the lamp."
Prepared as he was, Edgar nevertheless stepped back with an exclamation
of surprise and almost awe. The head stood out in the darkness with
startling distinctness. It had the effect of being bathed in moonlight,
although much more brilliant than even the light of the full moon. It
seemed to him, indeed, almost as if a faint wavering light played
around it, giving the stern face of the old Roman a sardonic and evil
expression.
"You can touch it, Edgar, but you will see that there is not the
slightest warmth."
"It is wonderful, father."
"Yes, it is a strange thing; but is, so far as I can see, of no use
save as a wonder, and it is just one of those wonders that to most
people would seem to be magical. I showed it a short time ago to the
prior, having explained to him beforehand how I had discovered it. He
is above the superstitions of folks in general, and knowing that I
could have no motive in deceiving him, was much interested; but he said
to me, 'This is one of the things that were best concealed. I can quite
understand that there are many things in nature of which we are
ignorant. I know that what you say of decayed fish sometimes giving out
light like this is perfectly true, and everyone knows that the
glowworms, when the weather is damp, light up the banks and fields,
although no heat can be felt. Doubtless in your researches on bones you
have discovered some substance akin to that which causes the light in
those cases, but you would never persuade the vulgar of this.
"'Nay, there are even churchmen and prelates who would view it as
magic. Therefore, my friend, seeing that, as you say, the powder is not
likely to be of any use to man, I should say that it were best that you
destroy it, for if whispers of it got abroad you might well be accused
of dealing in magic. All knowledge of things beyond them is magic to
the ignorant. Roger Bacon was treated as a magician, and I doubt not
that this will ever be the case with all those who are more learned
than their fellow-men. Therefore my advice to you is, burn the stuff
and say naught about it.'
"I did not take his advice, Edgar, for it seemed to me that it might
well be used to awe any unruly mob that might come hither at night to
attack me. I have made an experiment that, though I believe not in the
supernatural, would have frightened me had I seen it without knowing
anything of its nature. You know that old skull that was dug up out of
the garden last month, I have hung the lower jaw on wires so that it
can be moved, and have to-day painted it, and now I will blow out the
light again, and then take it from the cupboard."
A moment later the room was in darkness, and then an exclamation of
surprise and almost terror rose from Edgar. In front of him there was a
gibbering skull, the lower jaw wagging up and down, as if engaging in
noiseless laughter, It was much more brilliant than the stone head had
been, and a lambent flame played round it.
"What think ye of that, Edgar?"
"It is ghastly, sir, horrible!"
"It is not a pleasant object," his father said, quietly, as he struck
the tinder and again lighted the lamp. "I fancy, Edgar, that if a mob
of people were to break down the door and find themselves confronted by
that object they would fly in terror."
"Assuredly they would, father; they would not stop running this side of
Dartford. Even though I expected it, the sight sent a shiver through
me, and my teeth well-nigh chattered. But this would only avail in case
of a night attack."
"It would avail something even in daylight, Edgar. These downstairs
rooms have but little light, and that little I intend to block up by
nailing boards inside, and by hanging sacks over them outside. Then if
I place the skull in the passage, those who sought me in my laboratory
would be brought to a standstill. But there are other means. I have
buried jars filled with Friar Bacon's powder round the house, with
trains by which they can be fired. At present the common people know
little of guns, and methinks that the explosion of two or three of
these jars would send them about their business, I have other devices
which it is not necessary to enter upon, but which would be effective,
therefore you need have little fear that any mob will gain entrance
here, and you may be sure that after a repulse they would be very loath
to touch the place again."
"Yes, father, but they might bring accusation against you of
witchcraft."
"I admit that there is that danger, but the prior here has long taken
an interest in my investigations, and can testify for me that these are
but scientific products, and have naught to do with magic. Besides, if
there is a rising of the common people, the king and nobles will be in
no mood to listen to complaints against those who have thwarted the
attacks of the rioters."
"No doubt that would be so, father; still, for myself, I would rather
charge them, sword in hand, with a band of stout fellows behind me."
"But we have not got the stout fellows, Edgar; and for myself, even if
we had them, I would prefer to set these poor knaves running without
doing harm to them rather than to slay and maim, for their attack would
be made in their ignorance, and in their hatred of those above them.
They have been goaded by oppression into taking up arms, and the fault
rests upon others rather than upon the poor people."
The next morning, however, Edgar went round to the tenants, of whom
there were fifteen. They had heard of the affair at Dartford, which
was, of course, in everyone's mouth, and their sympathies were wholly
with the rioters.
"I think as you do," Edgar said to one of them. "The exactions of the
tax-gatherers are indeed beyond all bearing, and if the people do but
rise to demand fair treatment and their just rights as men, I should
wish them success; but I fear that evil counsels will carry them far
beyond this, and that they may attack the houses and castles of the
gentry, although these may be in no way the authors of their troubles.
I am sure that my father has oppressed no one."
"That he has not, Master Edgar. He is as good a lord as one could
desire. He exacts no dues beyond his rights; and indeed if there be
trouble or sickness he presses no one beyond his means. We have not
been called upon for service for many years, and if the Dartford men
should come hither to attack him they will find that they have to
reckon with us."
"That is what I have come for," Edgar said. "Should you hear of any
intention to attack the well-to-do, I would have you hold yourselves in
readiness to gather at the house, and to aid in its defence. My father
has means of his own for discomfiting any that may come against him;
but as these may fail, it would be well that there should be a body of
men ready to repel an attack."
"You can rely upon us, master, but I say not that you can do so on our
men. These are serfs, and their sympathies will be all with the
rioters. I do not think they would fight against us, but I fear they
would not venture their lives against those of their own class."
"That is more than could be expected; but if you yourselves come, it
will, I think, be sufficient. I have no fear that these men will in the
first place interfere with the gentry. Their first impulse will be to
obtain redress for their wrongs; but they have bad advisers, and many
will join them for the sake of plunder. When this once begins others
will take part with them in the matter, and there is no saying what may
come of it."
"Well, you can depend upon us, at any rate, master. You will have but
to ring the bell and all within hearing will run, arms in hand, to
defend the house, and we shall, I hope, have time enough to gather
there before the mob arrives."
"I doubt not that you will. I shall engage a trusty man to go down to
the town and watch what is going on, and we are sure to have notice of
any such movement. But as I have said, I think not that there is any
chance of their beginning in such a way; it will be only after they
have encountered the troops, and blood has been shed."
Having gone the round of the tenants, Edgar rode down to Dartford. On
the way he passed many men going in the same direction. Almost all of
them were armed with staves, pikes, axes, or bows, and he saw that the
country people had only been waiting for some act that would serve as a
signal for revolt, in order to gather as their fellows in Essex had
already begun to do. He found the streets of the town crowded with
people; some were excited and noisy, but the mass had a serious and
determined air that showed they were resolved upon going through with
the work that had been begun. In many places groups of men were
assembled in open spaces, listening to the talk of others standing on
tables or barrels that had been brought for the purpose.
Their speeches were all to the same point, and Edgar saw that they were
the result of a previous agreement.
"Men of Kent!" one exclaimed, "the day has come when you have to prove
that you are men, and not mere beasts of burden, to be trodden under
foot. You all know how we are oppressed, how illegal exactions are
demanded of us, and how, as soon as one is paid, some fresh tax is
heaped on us. What are we? Men without a voice, men whom the government
regard as merely beings from whom money is to be wrung. Nor is this
all. 'Tis not enough that we must starve in order that our oppressors
may roll in wealth, may scatter it lavishly as they choose, and indulge
in every luxury and in every pleasure. No. The hounds sent among us to
wring the last penny from us now take to insulting our wives and
daughters, and at last our patience is at an end.
"We have news this morning from all the country round that the people
are with us, and before long tens of thousands of the men of Kent will
be in arms. Our course is resolved upon. We and the men of Essex will
march on London, and woe be to those who try to bar our way. All shall
be done orderly and with discretion. We war only against the
government, and to obtain our rights. Already our demands have been
drawn up, and unless these are granted we will not be content. These
are what we ask: _first_, the total abolition of slavery for ourselves
and our children for ever; _second_, the reduction of the rent of good
land to 4_d_. the acre; _third_, the full liberty of buying and selling
like other men in fairs and markets; _fourth_, a general pardon for all
past offences."
The recital of these demands was received with a shout of approval.
"This and nothing less will we be content with," he went on. "There are
some of the king's advisers who had best not fall into our hands, for
if they do their lives will pay the penalty for their evil deeds. But
upon one thing we are determined: there shall be no plundering. Our
cause is a just one, and for that we are ready to fight. But should any
join us with the intention of turning this movement to their private
advantage, and of plunder and robbery, we warn them that such will not
be permitted, and any man caught plundering will at once be hung. They
may call us rioters; they may try and persuade the king that we are
disloyal subjects, though this is not the case. One thing they shall
not say of us, that we are a band of robbers and thieves. By to-night
we shall be joined by all true men of the neighbourhood, and will then
march to Gravesend, where our fellows have already risen and are in
arms; thence we go to Rochester and deliver those of our brethren who
have been thrown into prison because they could not pay the unjust
taxes. That done, we will go straight to London and demand from the
king himself a charter granting the four points we demand. Wat the
Tyler has been chosen our leader. He has struck the first blow, and as
a man of courage and energy there is no fear of his betraying us,
seeing that he has already put his head into a noose. Now shout for the
charter, for the king, and for the commons of England."
Such was the tenor of all the speeches, and they were everywhere
received with loud cheers. As Edgar rode down the main street on his
way home he heard shouting, and a brawny, powerful man came along,
surrounded by a mob of cheering men. He looked at Edgar steadily, and
stepped in front of his horse.
"You are the son of the man at St. Alwyth," he said. "I have seen you
in the streets before. What think you of what we are doing? I have
heard of you attending meetings there."
"I think that you have been cruelly wronged," Edgar answered, quietly,
"and that the four points that you demand are just and right. I wish
you good fortune in obtaining them, and I trust that it will be done
peacefully and without opposition."
"Whether peacefully or not, we are determined that they shall be
obtained. If it be needful, we will burn down London and kill every man
of rank who falls into our hands, and force our way into the king's
presence. We will have justice!"
"If you do so you will be wrong," Edgar said, calmly; "and moreover,
instead of benefiting your cause you will damage it. Your demands are
just, and it will be to the interest of no man to gainsay them. Even
the nobles must see that the land will gain strength were all men free
and ready to bear arms in its defence; and save for the article about
the price of land, as to which I am in no way a judge, I see not that
any man will be a penny the poorer; but if, on the other hand, such
deeds as those you speak of were committed, you would set the nobles
throughout the land against you, you would defeat your own good
objects, and would in the end bring destruction upon yourselves; so
that instead of bettering your position you would be worse than before."
"And do you doubt," the man exclaimed, with a scowling brow, "that the
commons of England could, if they wished, sweep away these accursed
nobles and their followers?"
"Were the commons of England united, well armed, and disciplined, they
could doubtless do so," Edgar replied, quietly. "I know not whether you
are united, but certainly you are neither armed nor disciplined. We saw
how little an undisciplined mass, even if well armed, can do against
trained troops, when a few thousands of English soldiers defeated nigh
twenty times their number at Poictiers. And I say that against a force
of steel-clad knights and men-at-arms any number of men, however brave,
if armed as these are, could make no stand. It would not be a
battle--it would be a slaughter; therefore, while wishing you well, and
admitting the full justice of your demands, I would say that it were
best for your own sakes, and for the sakes of those who love you, that
you should conduct yourselves peaceably, so as to show all men that no
harm can arise from granting you the charter you ask for, and in giving
you all the rights and privileges of free men."
There was a murmur of approval from many of those standing round. The
Tyler, who had made a step forward, looked back angrily and would have
spoken, but the man next to him whispered something in his ear. Without
saying more he walked on, while Edgar touched his horse with his heel
and proceeded on his way.
Although his father no doubt heard him ride up to the house, he did not
ascend from his laboratory until his usual time, for although, since
the prior had called his attention to his son's condition, he had, when
not at work, done all in his power to make the boy happy, and had even
given up two hours every evening to him, at all other times he was
absorbed in his work to the exclusion of aught else.
"You have been down into the town?" he asked Edgar, as they seated
themselves at the table.
"Yes, father; and whatever may happen afterwards, there is no fear of
any trouble at present. The speeches of almost all the men were quiet
and reasonable. They urged that serfdom should be abolished, free right
of markets given, the price of good land to be not over four pennies an
acre, that all past offences should be pardoned; beyond this they did
not go. Indeed, they declared that everything must be done peacefully
and in order, and that any man caught plundering should be hung
forthwith. By the applause that followed, these are evidently the
sentiments of the great mass of the peasants, but I fear there are some
of them--Wat the Tyler at their head--who will go much farther. At
present, however, they will disguise their real sentiments, but it
seems to me the march on London that they threaten will be far from
peaceable. In the first place, they are going to Gravesend, and,
joining those gathered there, will then march to Rochester, free all
those who have been thrown in prison for non-payment of the tax, and
then march on London."
"It must end in disaster, Edgar; for if they obtain what they desire
from the king--which they may do, seeing that his uncles are all away,
and it will be difficult to raise any force of a sudden that would
suffice to defeat them--what will they gain by it? Doubtless, as soon
as Gloucester and Lancaster arrive in London, the charter will be
annulled, and possibly the leaders of the malcontents punished for
their share in the matter. Still, I say not that even so, the movement
will not have done good. The nobles have enough on their hands with
their own quarrels and jealousies, and seeing that the continuance of
serfdom is likely to give rise to troubles that may be more serious
than this hasty and ill-considered movement, they may be content to
grant whatever is asked, in order to make an end to troubles of this
kind. The English are not like the peasants of other countries--so far,
at least, as I have seen them. The feeling of independence is very
strong among them, and there is none of the obsequious deference that
the serfs in Italy and France pay to their masters."
The next morning Albert De Courcy rode into St. Alwyth.
"Why, Albert," Edgar said, as he went out to the door, on seeing him
approach, "have you got a holiday to-day?"
"I have a holiday for some time, Edgar. I have received a message from
my father saying that he deems it well that I should at once escort my
mother and Aline to London, for he has heard of this trouble at
Dartford, and as the king has asked him to remain at Court at present,
he would fain have mother, Aline, and me with him. Old Hubert is to
take command of the castle, and to bid the tenantry be ready to come in
for its defence should trouble threaten. But this is not all; he has
spoken to the king of you, praising both your swordsmanship and the
benefit that I have derived from your teaching, and Richard desired him
to send for you and to present you to him."
"It is kind indeed of Sir Ralph," Edgar exclaimed, warmly, "and I will
assuredly take advantage of his goodness, although undeserved. This is
indeed a splendid opportunity for me. When do you start?"
"We shall leave at ten. I heard as I came along that the peasants
marched at daybreak this morning to Gravesend, therefore there is no
fear of our crossing their path."
"I must run down and speak to my father. It is no small thing that he
will allow to disturb him at his work, but methinks that he will not
mind upon such an occasion."
In five minutes Mr. Ormskirk came up into the hall with Edgar.
"My son has told me, Master De Courcy, of the great kindness that your
father has done to him. I would, indeed, say no word to hinder his
going with you. 'Tis an opportunity the like of which may never occur
to him again. It is only on account of the troubles with the peasants
that he dislikes to go away at this moment, but I deem not that any
trouble will come of it here; and I can myself, as he knows, cope with
them should they attempt aught against this house, therefore I bade him
not to let that matter enter his mind, but to prepare himself at once
to ride with you up to town, so that you can rely upon his being at the
castle at the hour appointed."
"Then, with your permission, I will ride off at once, Mr. Ormskirk, for
I also have preparations to make, having started at once on the arrival
of my father's messenger."
As soon as he had gone, Mr. Ormskirk went up to his chamber and
returned in a minute or two. "Here, Edgar, is a purse with money for
your needs. The first thing you must do when you reach London is to
procure suitable garments for your presentation to the king. Your
clothes are well enough for a country gentleman, but are in no way fit
for Court. I need not say to you, do not choose over-gay colours, for I
know that your tastes do not lie in that direction. I don't wish you to
become a courtier, Edgar; for, though it is an excellent thing to be
introduced at Court and to be known to high personages there, that is
an altogether different thing from being a hanger-on of the Court.
Those who do naught but bask in a king's favour are seldom men of real
merit. They have to play their part and curry favour. They are looked
down upon by the really great; while, should they attain a marked place
in the king's favour they are regarded with jealousy and enmity, and
sooner or later are sure to fall.
"You cannot but remember the fate that befell the queen's favourites
when Edward threw off his tutelage and took the reins of power into his
own hands. Such is ever the fate of favourites; neither nobles nor the
commonalty love upstarts, and more than one will, I foresee, erelong
draw upon themselves the enmity of the king's uncles and other nobles
for the influence they have gained over the mind of the young king. I
should wish you, then, to make as many acquaintances as you can, for
none can say who may be of use to you at one time or another; but keep
yourself aloof from all close intimacies. It may be that, in after
years, you may find it well-nigh impossible to keep aloof from all
parties in the state, but do so as long as you are able, until you can
discern clearly who are true patriots and who are actuated only by
their own selfish ambition, bearing in mind always that you are a
simple gentleman, desirous when an English army enters the field
against a foreign foe, to play your part manfully and with honour, and
to gain your reputation as a soldier and not as a frequenter of Courts."
"I will bear your instructions in mind, father, and indeed they accord
with what you before said to me, and which I determined to make a guide
to my conduct."
"Now you had better see to the packing of your valise. It will not be
necessary for you to take many things, as you can equip yourself in
London."
An hour later, Edgar, after bidding farewell to his father, mounted his
horse. "I shall look to see you back again in two or three weeks at the
longest," Mr. Ormskirk said; "it is better to come home, even if you go
again shortly, though it may be that you will have no occasion for
another visit to town for some time to come. If Sir Ralph would keep
you longer it were best to make some excuse to return. I know that
there are many at Court but little older than yourself, for the king,
being as yet scarcely fifteen, naturally likes to surround himself with
those who are not greatly older, and who have the same love for
pleasure and gaiety, but such associates will do you no good, though I
say not that a little of it might not be of advantage, seeing that you
are somewhat more grave than is natural at your age, owing to the life
that you have led here with me. Young De Courcy--although I have
greatly encouraged your companionship with him, for he is a very
pleasant and agreeable young gentleman--is too gentle, and lacking in
high spirits, which has increased, rather than diminished, your
tendency to silence, and a little companionship with more ardour would
not be amiss. You must remember that a cheerful spirit that enables a
man to support hardship and fatigue lightly, and to animate his
soldiers by his example, is one of the most important characteristics
of a leader of men."
Edgar arrived at the castle of the De Courcys a few minutes before ten.
Some horses were already standing at the door. He did not go in,
deeming that he might be in the way, but sent in word to Lady De Courcy
that he was there and at her service. In a few minutes she came out,
accompanied by her son and Aline.
"I am glad to have so good an escort, Master Ormskirk," she said,
smiling; "for after what Sir Ralph told me I feel that I can safely
entrust myself to your care."
"I will assuredly do my best, lady," he said, "but I trust that there
will be no occasion to draw a sword. I deem that most of those who make
the roads unsafe will have gone off to join the Tyler and his band,
thinking that opportunities for plunder are sure to present themselves;
but, at any rate, as you take, I see, two men-at-arms with you, it is
unlikely that anyone will venture to molest us."
He assisted Lady De Courcy and her daughter to their saddles, and the
party soon rode off, followed by the two men-at-arms.
"Do you purpose to make the journey in a single day?" Edgar asked.
"Assuredly. Aline and I are both accustomed to ride on horseback, and
the journey is not too far to be done before the evening falls,
especially as it will be for one day's journey only; the roads are
good, the day fine, and there will be no occasion to ride at speed.
Why, it is but some seventeen or eighteen miles, and you must think but
poorly of our horsemanship if you think we cannot traverse such a
distance."
So they travelled on, the horses sometimes going at an amble, sometimes
dropping into a walk. As they proceeded they met several little parties
of men hurrying along, armed with pikes, clubs, or farming implements.
These passed without speaking, and seemed to be much more fearful that
they might be interfered with than desirous of interfering with others.
"They are miserable-looking varlets," Dame De Courcy said,
disdainfully. "Our two men-at-arms would be a match for a score of
them."
"I doubt not that they would," Albert agreed, "though methinks that a
blow with one of those flails would make a head ring even under a steel
casque."
"I doubt whether they would think of anything but running away,
Albert," Edgar said. "I am sorry for the poor fellows; they have great
grievances, but I fear they are not setting about the righting of them
the best way. I hope that no great ill may befall them."
"But surely these people have not your sympathy, Master Ormskirk?" Lady
De Courcy said, in some surprise.
"I have seen enough of them to be sorry for them," Edgar said. "Their
life is of the hardest. They live mostly on black bread, and are
thankful enough when they can get enough of it. To heavily tax men such
as these is to drive them to despair, and that without producing the
gain expected, for it is in most cases simply impossible for them to
pay the taxes demanded. It seems to me that a poll-tax is, of all
others, the worst, since it takes into no account the differences of
station and wealth--to the rich the impost is trifling, to the poor it
is crushing. It seems to me too that it is not only wrong, but stupid,
to maintain serfdom. The men and their families must be fed, and a
small money payment would not add greatly to the cost of their
services, and indeed would be gained in the additional value of their
labour.
"When men are kept as serfs, they work as serfs--I mean to say they
work unwillingly and slowly, while, had they the sense of being free,
and of having the same rights as others, they would labour more
cheerfully. Moreover, it would double the strength of the force that
the king and his nobles could place in the field. I am not speaking
upon my own judgment, but from what I have learned from my father."
They had no sudden attack to fear from lurking foes, for an act of
Edward the First was still in force, by which every highway leading
from one market-town to another was always to be kept clear, for two
hundred feet on each side, of every ditch, tree, or bush in which a man
might lurk to do harm; while, as any ill that happened to travellers
was made payable by the township in which it occurred, there was a
strong personal interest on the part of the inhabitants to suppress
plundering bands in their neighbourhood. Both Edgar and Albert rode in
partial armour, with steel caps and breast-pieces, it being an
ordinance that all of gentle blood when travelling should do so, and
they carried swords by their sides, and light axes at their saddle-bows.
It was but a little past three o'clock when they crossed London Bridge
and then made for the Tower, near which Sir Ralph was lodged.