THE CAPTAIN OF KENT.
In the summer of 1450 there was a ferment among the commons of Kent.
For some time, indeed, the inhabitants of that district of England had
been discontented with the administration of affairs; but now they
were roused to action by rumors that Margaret of Anjou, holding them
responsible for the execution of Suffolk, had vowed revenge; that a
process of extermination was to be forthwith commenced; and that the
country, from the Thames to the Straits of Dover, was to be converted
into a hunting-forest for the queen and her favorites.
About the middle of June, while the indignation of the Kentishmen was
at its height, a military adventurer, who has since been known as "Jack
Cade," but who called himself John Mortimer, and gave out that his
mother was a Lacy, suddenly appeared among the malcontents, informed
them that he was related to the Duke of York, and offered to be their
captain. According to the chroniclers, he was "a young man of goodly
stature, and pregnant wit," and he told his story so plausibly, that
the men of Kent believed he was York's cousin. Delighted with the
notion of having found a Mortimer to lead them to battle, and to free
them from oppression, the people crowded by thousands to his standard;
and Cade, having assumed the title of Captain of Kent, arrayed them in
good order, marched toward London, and encamped on Blackheath.
The men of Kent were not foes to be despised. They had ever claimed
the privilege of marching in the van of England's army, and had so
borne themselves on fields of fight, that their courage was beyond
dispute. The determined spirit by which they were known to be animated
rather daunted the court; and the king, in alarm, sent to ask why they
had left their homes. Cade replied in a manner at which a government
owing its existence to a revolution had little reason to take umbrage.
He sent a document, entitled "Complaint of the Commons of Kent,"
containing a statement of grievances, demanding speedy redress, and
requesting, in respectful language, the dismissal of the corrupt men by
whom the king was surrounded, and the recall of "the Duke of York, late
exiled from the royal presence."
The queen and her friends saw that something must be done, and that
quickly. An army was, therefore, levied in the king's name; and, at
the head of it, Henry advanced to Blackheath; but Cade, wishing to
draw the royal force into Kent, broke up his camp and retreated to
the quiet old market-town of Sevenoaks. The queen, doubtless somewhat
surprised at the storm she had raised, dreaded the possibility of
the king being environed by the insurgents. She, therefore, deputed
the danger of encountering Cade to a gallant knight named Humphrey
Stafford, and, having done so, retired to Greenwich.
On receiving the queen's commands, Stafford, and some of the court
gallants, put on their rich armor and gorgeous surcoats, mounted
their horses, and, with a detachment of the royal army, dashed off to
engage the insurgents, all eagerness, as it seemed, to bring back the
leader's head as a trophy. On coming up with the foe, however, the
ardor of the gay warriors rapidly cooled; for, in posting his troops
in Sevenoaks Wood, the Captain of Kent had made his dispositions with
such masterly skill, that the insurgents felt high confidence, and
presented a formidable front. Nevertheless, Stafford did not shrink
from an encounter. Boldly dashing onward, he attacked the Kentishmen in
their strong-hold. His courage, however, was of no avail. At the very
onslaught, he fell in front of his soldiers; and they, fighting with no
good-will, allowed themselves to be easily defeated.
Proud of his victory, the Captain of Kent arrayed himself in Stafford's
rich armor, advanced toward London, encamped once more on Blackheath,
and threatened to attack the metropolis. His success had rendered him
so popular a hero, that the Kentishmen, under the delusion that all
abuses were to be reformed, called him "Captain Mendall;" and the
inhabitants of Surrey and Sussex, catching the enthusiasm, crowded to
his camp.
Margaret of Anjou had now cause for serious alarm. The royal army could
no longer be relied on. Already many of the soldiers had deserted,
and those who remained were asking, with indignation, why the Duke of
York was not recalled. Aware of all this, the king deputed Humphrey
Stafford, first Duke of Buckingham, a popular favorite, and a prince of
the blood, to repair to Cade's camp, and expostulate with the rebels.
The captain received the duke with all due respect, but declared that
the insurgents could not lay down their arms, unless the king would
hear their complaints in person, and pledge his royal word that their
grievances should be redressed.
When Buckingham returned with Cade's answer to Greenwich, there was
yet time for Henry to save his regal dignity. Had he been capable of
laying aside his saintly theories for a few hours, bracing on his
armor, mounting his steed, and riding forth with words of courage
and patriotism on his lips, he might have won back the hearts of
his soldiers, and either scattered the insurgent army by force, or
dissolved it by persuasion. To do this, a king of England did not
require the animal courage of a _Coeur de Lion_, or the political
genius of an English Justinian. Any of Henry's predecessors, even
the second Edward or the second Richard, could have mustered spirit
and energy sufficient for the occasion. But the monk-monarch, having
neither spirit nor energy, quietly resigned himself to his fate; and
the queen, terrified at the commotion her imprudences had raised,
disbanded the royal army, charged Lord Scales to keep the Tower,
and, leaving London to its fate, departed with her husband to seek
security in the strong castle of Kenilworth. There was quite as little
discretion as dignity in the king's precipitate retreat. The most
devoted adherents of the Red Rose might well despair of the house of
Lancaster standing long, when they heard that the son of the conqueror
of Agincourt had fled before the ringleader of a rabble.
Not slow to take advantage of the king's absence, the Captain of Kent
moved from Blackheath to Southwark. From that place he sent to demand
entrance into London; and, after a debate in the Common Council, Sir
Thomas Chalton, the mayor, intimated that no opposition would be
offered. Accordingly, on the 3d of July, the insurgent leader crossed
London Bridge--the single bridge of which the capital then boasted--and
led his followers into the city.
The inhabitants of London must have felt some degree of dismay. Both
courtiers and citizens had an idea what a mob was--what violence and
bloodshed the French capital had witnessed during the outbreaks of the
_Cabochiens_--of what horrors each French province had been the scene
during the _Jacquerie_. Moreover, the ruins of the Savoy, destroyed
during Wat Tyler's insurrection, and towering gloomily on the spot now
occupied by the northern approach to Waterloo Bridge, formed at least
one memorial of what mischief even English peasants and artisans were
capable, when roused by injustice and oppression. At first, however,
the Captain of Kent displayed a degree of moderation hardly to have
been anticipated. Arrayed in Stafford's splendid mail, he commenced his
triumphal entry by indulging in a little harmless vanity.
"Now," said he, stopping, and striking his staff on London Stone, "now
is Mortimer Lord of London."
"Take heed," said the mayor, who was standing on the threshold of his
door, and witnessed the scene, "take heed that you attempt nothing
against the quiet of the city."
"Sir," answered Cade, "let the world take notice of our honest
intentions by our actions."
All that day the Captain of Kent appeared most anxious to gain the
good opinion of the citizens. He issued proclamations against plunder,
did his utmost to preserve discipline, and in the evening he marched
quietly back to Southwark. Next morning, however, he returned; and,
perhaps, no longer able to restrain the thirst of his followers for
blood, he resolved to gratify them by the execution of "a new man."
Among the most obnoxious of the king's ministers was James Fiennes,
who held the office of lord chamberlain, and enjoyed the dignity of
Lord Say. The rapid rise of this peer to wealth and power had rendered
him an object of dislike to the old nobility; and his connection with
Suffolk's administration had rendered him an object of hatred to the
people. Besides, he had lately purchased Knole Park, in the vicinity
of Sevenoaks, and perhaps had, as lord of the soil, given offense to
the commons of Kent by trenching on some of those privileges which they
cherished so fondly.
Ere entering London, the insurgents had made up their minds to have
Lord Say's head; and, aware of the odium attached to his name, the
unpopular minister had taken refuge with Lord Scales in the Tower.
Scales had seen much service in France, and highly distinguished
himself in the wars of the fifth Henry; but now he had reached his
fiftieth summer; his bodily strength had decayed; and time had perhaps
impaired the martial spirit that had animated his youthful exploits.
At all events, instead of defending Lord Say to the last, as might
have been expected, Scales allowed him to be taken from the Tower and
carried to Guildhall, and on the ill-fated lord's arrival there the
Captain of Kent compelled the mayor and aldermen to arraign him as a
traitor. In vain Say protested against the proceeding, and demanded
a trial by his peers. The captain twitted him with being a mock
patrician, and insisted upon the judges condemning the "buckram lord."
At length the insurgents lost patience, hurried their prisoner into
Cheapside, and, having there beheaded him without farther ceremony,
hastened to execute vengeance upon his son-in-law, Sir James Cromer,
who, as sheriff of Kent, had incurred their displeasure.
Intoxicated with triumph as the Captain of Kent might be, the daring
adventurer felt the reverse of easy while passing himself off as a
Mortimer, and could not help dreading the consequence of his real
origin being revealed to those whom he had deluded. Rumors were indeed
creeping about that his name was Jack Cade; that he was a native of
Ireland; that in his own country he had, for some time, lived in the
household of a knight, but that having killed a woman and child he had
entered the French service, and acquired the military skill which he
had displayed against Stafford. Moreover, some chroniclers state that,
to preclude the possibility of exposure, he mercilessly executed those
who were suspected to know any thing of his antecedents, and endeavored
to insure the fidelity of his adherents by allowing them to perpetrate
various kinds of enormity.
The citizens had hitherto submitted with patience; but on the 5th of
July a provoking outrage roused them to resistance. On that day Cade,
having gratified his vanity and satiated his thirst for blood, began to
think of spoil. He commenced operations under peculiar circumstances.
After dining with one of the citizens he requited the hospitality of
his host by plundering the house, and the example of the captain was
so faithfully followed by his men that the Londoners perceived the
propriety of doing something for their defense. When, therefore, Cade
led his forces back to Southwark for the night, and the shades of
evening settled over London, the inhabitants took counsel with Lord
Scales, and resolved upon fortifying the bridge so as to prevent his
return.
While Cade was passing the night of the 5th of July at Southwark,
reposing on his laurels, as it were, at the _White Hart_, news was
carried to him that Lord Scales and the citizens were preparing to
resist his return. With characteristic decision the Captain of Kent
sprang to arms, declared he should force a passage forthwith, mustered
his men, and led them to the attack. Fortune, however, now declared
against him. A fierce combat took place, and the citizens defended
the bridge so courageously that after a struggle of six hours the
insurgents were fain to retire to Southwark.
The courage of the mob now cooled; and the king's ministers determined
to try the effect of promises never intended to be redeemed.
Accordingly, William Waynflete, Bishop of Winchester, appeared with an
offer of pardon to all who would return peaceably home. At first the
insurgents were divided in opinion about accepting the bishop's terms;
but Cade showed an inclination to grasp at the pardon, and finally all
dispersed. The Captain of Kent, however, had as little intention as the
government to act with honor; and within ten days he again appeared
in Southwark with a considerable following. This time, however, the
citizens, elate with victory, presented a firm front; and, dismayed at
their threatening aspect, Cade retreated to Rochester. While there,
terrified at the feuds of his followers, he learned with horror that a
thousand marks had been offered for his apprehension; and, alarmed at
the probability of being delivered up, he galloped across the country
toward the coast of Sussex, and, for some time, wandered about in
disguise.
The Captain of Kent was not destined to elude the vengeance of the
government which he had defied. An esquire of the county, named
Alexander Iden, pursued the despairing insurgent, and found him lurking
in a garden at Rothfield. Cade did not yield to his fate without a
struggle. Drawing his sword, he stood upon his defense; and both the
captain and the esquire being men of strength and courage, a desperate
conflict ensued. The victory, however, fell to Iden; and Cade's head,
after being carried to the king, was set on London Bridge, his face
turned toward the hills of Kent. Many of his companions, in spite of
Bishop Waynflete's promise of pardon, were subsequently taken and
executed as traitors.
Such was the end of a popular tumult, the origin of which remains in
considerable obscurity. Some asserted that Jack Cade was merely an
agent of Richard Plantagenet, and did not hesitate to describe "Captain
Mendall" as "one of the Duke of York's firebrands." No evidence exists,
however, to show that the "high and mighty prince," freely as his great
name might have been used by the insurgents, had any thing to do with
the enterprise. Nevertheless the insurrection was not without influence
on the duke's fortunes, and it has ever been regarded as a prelude to
the fierce struggle between the houses of York and Lancaster.