Summary

Portrait of H. C. Bailey H. C. Bailey The Pageant of England — VI. An Angel of Revolution (1908)

This time all the mob left the city.
Beyond the New Gate, amid the filth and offal of the Market Square, “great and horrible smells and mortal abominations,” the drunken, blood-stained rabble met, and Master Tyler peacocked it among them. He was unquestioned leader, and Father John and Gamelyn and the orators stayed sulking within the city. The King came and his lords, and William Walworth the mayor, all with armour beneath their robes. And the while behind the walls, Sir Robert Knolles marshalled every loyal archer and man-at-arms who liked twelve pence a day.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. C. Bailey H. C. Bailey The Pageant of England — VI. An Angel of Revolution (1908)

Strange gospels of men's rights to the next world and their duties in this clashed like thunder and dazed weak heads. For the power of the storm there was need enough. The most of Englishmen were bound like slaves to lord and land. Even if Piers Plowman were free, the law forbade him more than threepence for his day's labour, and if he were stubborn for a higher wage made him outlaw, whom any gentle might send down to death. Wise souls strode out to wield the lightnings of revolution, It is ever a position of splendour.
Captain John Craddock came to his house on London Bridge with content.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of H. C. Bailey H. C. Bailey The Pageant of England — VI. An Angel of Revolution (1908)

He tossed back his dark hair with a wild, graceful gesture, and strode to and fro, his hands working nervously. “Marry, there comes a bloody accompt!” he cried. “For your lords and ladies what care I? Let their blood pay for the sweat of blood they have drunk. But Jack Trueman of the commons, that perils life for the right to live—ah, would that I might die for him!”
Source: Wikisource

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