Dan Snow's History Hit - Wars of the Roses: Jack Cade’s Rebellion Explained

Episode Date: September 13, 2023

It’s one of the most dramatic stories you might never have heard. Featuring a seaborne assassination, a vengeful manhunt and London Bridge in flames, the rebellion of Jack Cade in 1450 shook the English Crown to its very core and lit the spark that began the Wars of the Roses.In today’s episode of Gone Medieval Matt responds to a listener suggestion from Brett Fancy, unpacking and explaining how Cade went from an ordinary man to the leader of a 47,000-strong popular uprising. It is a thrilling and intriguing tale about a man who set not just London, but all of England on fire.This episode was produced by Elena Guthrie and mixed by Joseph Knightweekly presented by world-renowned historians like Dan Snow, Suzannah Lipscomb, Lucy Worsley, Matt Lewis, Tristan Hughes and more. Get 50% off your first 3 months with code DANSNOW. Download the app or sign up here.PLEASE VOTE NOW! for Dan Snow's History Hit in the British Podcast Awards Listener's Choice category here. Every vote counts, thank you!We'd love to hear from you! You can email the podcast at [e-mail] can take part in our listener survey here.

Hi folks, welcome to Dan Snow's History Hit. It's the medieval uprising you've probably never heard of, but it's one of the most dramatic stories you will ever hear. You're going to be so glad you've listened to this podcast. That's all I'm saying. I'm doing you a service, public service, you can thank me later. This is the story of Jack Cade's Rebellion. This rebellion, 1450, shook the English crown to its core, and actually it's the spark that ignited the War of the Roses. The brilliant host Matt explores this story. It's actually a listener suggestion originally, so keep getting those listener suggestions coming in. How did this man, Jack Cade,

go from being just an ordinary, ordinary dude to being leader of an uprising nearly 50,000 strong? He set London on fire. He set England on fire. Just like Gone Medieval. Enjoy. Welcome to this episode of Gone Medieval. I'm Matt Lewis. And it's just me again today. Well, not quite. We had a listener request to cover something right in my historical sweet spot. Here's Brett to explain what he asked for and why, and then I'll be back with one of the most dramatic stories you might never have heard. Hi, Matt. My name is Brett Fancy. I'm an actor and listener of the Gone Medieval podcast. I'm a big fan of the series,

particularly the three special episodes on the War of the Roses. And I'd love it if you were able to do a more detailed episode on the little-known but important person of Jack Cade, a man who in 1450 led a popular uprising of 30,000 against the government of Henry VI, an event which many see as the possible precursor to the War of the Roses. This is a subject that you, Matt, know all about. So, what is the best version of events? Who really was Jack Cade? Could you share the latest discoveries and opinions about this fascinating character and period in British history? Well, Brett, I'm more than happy to oblige. I don't need very much excuse to talk about the

period of the Wars of the Roses. And it just so happens I'm actually writing happy to oblige. I don't need very much excuse to talk about the period of the Wars of the Roses. And it just so happens I'm actually writing a novel about Jack Cade at the moment. So he's right there at the forefront of my mind. So let's dive in to this tumultuous episode in British history. 1450 was a tough year for King Henry VI and for England. It began badly and got worse as the weeks went by. The summer would see one of the most incredible but little-known moments in English 15th century history. One man would emerge but leave behind so many questions. In the process, London Bridge would really burn down. Before we get to the heat of summer and flames, there's plenty that set the scene for what was to come.

On the 9th of January 1450, a bishop was murdered. That's pretty shocking, but it's only the beginning. He was Adam Mollin, Bishop of Chichester. Adam held offices in Henry VI's government. He'd been the clerk to the Regency Council while Henry was a boy, and more recently, keeper of the Privy Seal. He'd also been at the centre of England's peace negotiations with France that were the heart of Henry VI's policy. In 1446, Adam had also brought charges against the Duke of York for financial mismanagement in France which had contributed to York losing his position there to the Duke of Somerset. That link could relate to future events.

Anyway, in 1450 Adam was in Portsmouth. He'd secured permission to go on a pilgrimage, perhaps to distance himself from the growing disasters in France that were resulting from Henry's desire to appease Charles VII. As Adam waited to board a ship, he encountered a group of disgruntled soldiers and sailors. One of them, a ship's captain named Cuthbert Colville, recognised and murdered the bishop. One chronicler later claimed that the bishop tried to save his own life by implicating the Duke of Suffolk and others as traitors. Suffolk was already in trouble.

Parliament had opened in November 1449, but the session had been hijacked by accusations that Suffolk had betrayed the king and the realm. When it returned on the 22nd of January, the problem hadn't gone away. The Duke of Suffolk was William de la Pole, a remarkable man. He was 53 years old and had become closest advisor to the 27-year-old King Henry VI. Suffolk was probably something of a father figure, so the accusations of treason that threatened to wrench the Duke from the King were frightening to Henry. William asked for permission to state his case before the King and Parliament. He began by addressing his monarch.

The Parliament rolls record him saying, I imagine that the odious and horrible words that run through your land in the mouth of almost every commoner have reached your ears, to my great grief and sorrow. He continued by recounting his family's loyal service. William's father had been killed at the siege of Harfleur in September 1415 and his older brother at the Battle of Agincourt just seven weeks later. That had made William Earl of Suffolk. He then lost three more younger brothers to the conflict.

Alexander was killed at the Battle of Jargault in 1429. John died as a prisoner in the same year and Thomas as a hostage in France in 1433. William had, he told Henry, borne arms for thirty-four winters in the time of your father the king and your own time, and have been a member of the Fellowship of the Garter for thirty, and during the aforesaid period I have remained continuously in the war for seventeen years, without coming home or seeing this land. And since my return home, I have continually served about your most noble person for 15 years.

It was this service that had seen William rise through the ranks to become Marquess and then Duke of Suffolk, putting him at the pinnacle of English society. He denied all of the charges laid against him, but the House of Commons was baying for blood. On the 17th of March, Henry called the Lord spiritual and temporal to his private chamber, away from Parliament. He told them he planned to exercise his right to deal with the accusations against Suffolk personally. Few could have been in any doubt what was to come. Suffolk was declared innocent of all the major charges levelled against him.

He was found guilty of some minor financial impropriety and exiled from Henry's lands in England and France for five years. This was the minimum Henry felt he could get away with while keeping Suffolk safely out of harm's reach. Parliament was shut down again in a hurry when an MP named Thomas Young, who had some links to the Duke of York, put a bill before the session asking that York be named heir to the childless Henry. York probably was the heir presumptive to Henry, but no king without a son would ever seek to make such a position explicit.

Things were going from bad to worse, and it was easy for Henry to see all the threads of his trouble leading back to York, even if he was imagining his cousin as the root of all his problems. On the 1st of May, Suffolk set sail for exile. He left behind a touching instructional letter to his eight-year-old son, John, that's well worth a read. As he sailed out to sea, a large ship, the Nicholas of the Tower, hailed his own vessel. The Nicholas had been used by the Crown and William may have thought a late reprieve was reaching him. If he had hope, it was only momentary. The past and letters record what happened next. His heart failed him, for he thought he was deceived, and in the sight of all his men he was drawn out of the great ship into a boat, and there was an axe and a stoke, and one of the lewdest of the

ship bade him lay down his head, and he should be fair fared with, and die on a sword, and took a rusty sword and smote off his head with half a dozen strokes. It was a brutal and humiliating end for the Duke. His body was dumped on Dover Beach, the head impaled on a spike beside it, looking out at a channel crossing he'd failed to make, towards a country that had cost him so much. Unsurprisingly, rumours sprang up that York, then in Ireland as Lord Lieutenant, had arranged Suffolk's assassination. Grumbles grew into loud mutterings throughout May.

The peace policy with France meant handing over land. Families were returning to England with no work and no home. Soldiers were arriving in ports unpaid, angry and overflowing with testosterone. Kent was bearing the brunt of the resulting problems and lawlessness, though other surrounding counties felt the tension and some of the pain too. In June, men of Kent began to gather and make their way to Blackheath, just south of London. Gregory's Chronicle, written by a London merchant who lived through the events, puts their numbers between a terrifying 20 and 46,000.

That's around a Premier League ground full of angry men looking for someone to shout at. A leader emerged from amongst this gathered mass of disquiet. He was named Jack Cade. Who he was and where he came from has been hotly debated ever since that summer. There are some hints in the rest of his story, but no certainty. From their camp at Blackheath in June, the mob, as they must have seemed to those in London, issued a document entitled The Complaint of the Poor People of Kent, directed at Parliament. The manifesto began by identifying Cade and his followers as Henry's loyal subjects, brought to Blackheath by despair at the rumours that Henry meant to lay waste to Kent in vengeance for Suffolk's murder. that Henry meant to lay waste to Kent in vengeance for Suffolk's murder.

It continued by complaining about the shameful losses in France caused by the evil councillors who lingered about the king. The insistence that nobles of the king's own blood should be allowed to return to his council to drive out these false advisers was a clear allusion to the Duke of York that must have alarmed Henry. advisors was a clear allusion to the Duke of York that must have alarmed Henry. It's worth just pausing to consider York's position briefly, mainly because I'll take any opportunity to talk about him. Henry VI was the third king of the House of Lancaster, descended from the third son of Edward III. The House of York was a line from

Edward's fourth son. However, York's mother, Anne Mortimer, had borne a name that had haunted the Lancastrian regime. To many, in 1399, when Henry IV took the throne as the first Lancastrian king, he wasn't the rightful heir to his cousin, Richard II. That position was held by the then seven-year-old Edmund Mortimer, 5th Earl of March. When Edmund died childless in 1425, all of his lands, wealth and the Mortimer claim passed to his 13-year-old nephew, the son of his sister Anne. passed to his 13-year-old nephew, the son of his sister Anne. It all fell upon York, who then held a senior royal title that belied a blood claim considered by many better than Lancaster's, and considered by the Lancastrians as a threat.

Before he was grown, and before he took a step on the political stage, I think York was eyed with the suspicion that drove paranoia and coloured the King's view I think York was eyed with the suspicion that drove paranoia and coloured the king's view of everything York did. As trouble erupted in England in 1450, York was in Ireland, sent, and probably happy to be, out of the way of suspicion. Nevertheless, the thought that York might be behind all his problems worked its way into the increasingly troubled mind of Henry VI. The King was in Leicester as the gathering at Blackheath produced their list of complaints. Parliament had reopened again there and was abruptly closed once more.

Henry sped south, mustering the reported 20,000 men as he travelled. The parallels with what's remembered as the Peasants' Revolt in 1381 can't have been lost on anyone. A huge gathering of people on the outskirts of London, driven by a collision of social forces for which the government is blamed. A teenage Richard II had found a way to deal with that issue, for good or for ill. The question was whether the 28-year-old Henry VI would discover a solution too. As the king moved south, he ordered the Duke of Buckingham, along with the earls of Arundel, Devon and Oxford, to act swiftly to punish the traitors and rebels of Kent. It was clear Henry's

plan was to show no mercy. For a king famed for his weakness, it was a strong show that he would not be defied by the commoners of his realm. When these high-ranking emissaries reached Blackheath, they asked Cade what he and his followers wanted. An English chronicle records that Cade replied that he and his fellowship were assembled and gathered there for to redress and reform the wrongs that were done in the realm and to withstand the malice of them that were destroyers of the common profit and for to correct and amend the defaults of them that were the king's chief counsellors.

With that, Cade presented a new document to the King's envoys. This one was entitled The Requests by the Captain of the Great Assembly in Kent. There was a definite change in tone now that hints at growing frustration or confidence. This was not a list of grievances from a country weighed down by oppressive rule, it was a list of demands from their leader. Those gathered at Blackheath still identified themselves as the King's Liegemen of Kent. The document then launched into a stinging attack

on those who surrounded Henry, calling them insatiable, covetous, malicious, pompous and false. It then quotes Latin scripture, which translates as woe to you that call evil good and good evil. Cade presented 21 articles. The first complained that they say that our sovereign Lord is above his law to his pleasure and he may make it and break it, asserting that the contrary was true and referring Henry to his coronation oath during which he promised to uphold the law of the land. The next complaint was that the king's advisors were falsely

claiming that the Kentish men planned to destroy those advisors, then remove Henry and make the Duke of York king in his place. The mention of York's name in relation to the throne must have set alarm bells ringing. Cade's petition claimed Henry's advisors did this so that by their false menace and lies, they make him to hate and destroy his friends and cherish his false traitors. The third article protested that the king was taxing his commons instead of living off his own lands and income because he was giving everything he owned away to his evil counsellors. Two articles complained about the unfair treatment of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester,

the king's uncle who had died three years earlier. Humphrey had championed the war in France in opposition to Henry's peace plans. He'd been popular with the people and Henry had arrested him for treason, fearing his uncle meant to kill him and take his throne. Humphrey had died in custody amid what some considered suspicious circumstances. The breakdown of the rule of law occupied several clauses. The men of Kent complained that whom the king wills shall be traitor and whom he wills shall be none, for the law serves naught else in these days but for to do wrong, and no remedy is had in the court of conscience. They complained that Henry owes more than ever any king of England ought,

pleading with the king to see that his false counsel has lost his law, his merchandise is lost, his common people destroyed, the sea is lost, France is lost. Cade insisted that although they were being called traitors, they shall be found the king's true liege men and best friends. He insisted too that they didn't blame all those around the king, just the remnant of Suffolk's faction that was clinging to power. Once they'd helped the king rid himself of his evil advisors,

they swore they would return home, adding ominously, Their demands were summed up in two of the articles. King Henry should rid himself of the rest of Suffolk's faction and take about his noble person, his true blood of his royal realm." In case there was any doubt about who that meant, the document clarified that it referred to the high and mighty Prince, the Duke of York, exiled from our sovereign Lord's person

by the noisings of the false traitor, the Duke of Suffolk and his affinity. They also added the mighty Prince, the Duke of Exeter, the Duke of Bucking traitor, the Duke of Suffolk, and his affinity. They also added the mighty prince, the Duke of Exeter, the Duke of Buckingham, the Duke of Norfolk, and his true earls and barons. If the king could reform his government, the men of Kent promised, he shall have so great love of his people that he shall, with God's help, conquer where he will. And as for us, we shall be always ready

to defend our country from all nations with our own goods and to go with our sovereign Lord where he will command us as his true liegemen. If Henry were to do as they suggested, he would be, Cade assured him, the richest king in Christendom. him, the richest king in Christendom. Vikings, Normans, Kings and Popes, who were rarely the best of friends, murder, rebellions, and crusades. Find out who we really were by subscribing to Gone Medieval from History Hit, wherever you get your podcasts. This document probably doomed Cade and the men of Kent to failure. It can be read as a benign, hopeful document, but a darker reading of its intentions is possible too.

The rebels will only go home when all of their demands have been met. Anyone who's not with them is against them, and they suggest that without reform, they'll not defend England from enemies or follow the king any longer. It had echoes of the aftermath of John's withdrawal from Magna Carta, when his barons invited Prince Louis of France to invade and take his throne. Even if it were read more sympathetically, it left Henry only the option to cave in to the rebels and remove some of his closest advisers, which would appear weak,

or to retain his counsellors and deny the gathered Kentishmen everything they demanded. Henry's decision was made clear when he crossed the Thames and installed himself at Greenwich Palace. He had no intention of dignifying these commoners with an answer, at least not one in words. He ordered his forces to march to Blackheath. An English chronicle noted that many were unwilling to attack fellow Englishmen with whom they largely agreed, saying they would not fight against them that laboured for to amend and reform the common profit. Some 15,000 men arrived on Blackheath on the 18th of June, bristling with weapons and trepidation. They found the heath deserted.

News had reached Cade and his followers and they'd fled. Buoyed by the apparent success, Henry ordered Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother William to take about 5,000 men and pursue the rebels. They caught up with the fleeing peasants in the Forest of the Weald, or so they thought. Cade's withdrawal had been a tactical one and the Stafford brothers faced the full force of those who had been at Blackheath, whipped up to a fury by knowing that the king had sent men to hunt them down rather than talk to them.

The Stafford's force was ambushed. Neither brother and only a handful of their men would return to the king of Blackheath. Over the days that followed, the atmosphere in and around London grew tense. Henry withdrew again to Greenwich and then fled back to Kenilworth in the Midlands, abandoning his capital. As London seethed, trouble spread. On the 29th of June, William Iscoff, Bishop of Salisbury, celebrated Mass at one of his parish churches at Eddington. It was a rare visit. The Bishop was King Henry's confessor, a member of the council. He was a member of the panel that investigated Eleanor Cobham, the wife of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, for witchcraft

and he'd conducted the wedding ceremony of Henry and Margaret of Anjou. I wonder if he knew something was wrong during the ceremony. As soon as he'd finished, the congregation rushed him. The bishop was dragged outside all the way to the top of a nearby hill, and beaten to death by his flock. They must have seen their shepherd more as a wolf. The mob tore bits of the bishop's robes and his bloodstained shirt to take away his gory trophies. It was all a terrifying mess.

Before the end of June 1450, there had been two murdered bishops, a murdered duke, a battle between Englishmen, and the king had run away. Back in London, people awaited the return of Cade and his men and fretted about what fresh terror that might bring. On the 1st of July, the Kentish men came back to Black Heath to find it deserted and to discover the King really had fled. Cade was wearing Sir Humphrey Stafford's armour, though it's at this point one chronicler makes an odd observation. Gregory's Chronicle was written by a London merchant who was in the capital at the time of the events. He wrote,

"...upon the first day of July the same captain came again, as the Kentish men said. But it was another that named himself Captain and came to Blackheath." No other account of these events claims that the Cade who came to Blackheath on the 1st of July was a different man from the original leader. It might mean Cade was killed in the fighting and the rebels tried to cover it up. To some, it could have suggested greater organisation and backing and there was only one name anyone was looking to see behind such a step. York. If Gregory is right. if Gregory is right. On the following day, the 2nd of July,

the men of Kent entered Southwark on the south bank of the Thames. Cade took up residence at the White Hart Inn. The White Hart, interestingly, having been the badge of Richard II, the man deposed in 1399 by Henry's grandfather. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe it wasn't. On the 3rd of July, doubtless after some negotiation, Cade and his men crossed London Bridge from Southwark into the capital. They were unopposed and as they crossed, they cut the ropes on the drawbridge halfway across London Bridge so it couldn't be raised

against them. Cade is recorded as using several names during this tense period. John Amendall leaned into the common rebel nickname that was an equivalent to Robin Hood in the collective consciousness. He was here to amend all. A shocking moment, though, is reported as he and his men strode into London. A legend grew up that Cade drew his dagger, struck the London Stone and roared, now is Mortimer Lord of this city. The London Stone still exists today. It's in an alcove on the north side of Cannon Street. It had originally been on

the south side but was moved when it became a hazard to traffic. Its origins are unknown, but were considered ancient by the medieval period. Some believe it was a marker placed by the Romans from which all distances in Britain were measured. Others say it was set at the centre of London to be the point from which public proclamations were read. Nobody knows. In 1450, they knew one thing though, the Mortimer name. From this point onwards, Cade would call himself John Mortimer. The use of that name, steeped in so much history and laced with a threat to the Lancastrian line, changed everything. The force occupied the city during the day. When evening fell, they crossed London Bridge back to Southwark,

assuring the city that they meant it no harm and that the men were well under control. On the morning of the 4th of July, they re-entered London. Some of the rebels named targets had been put in the tower by Henry before he left. Whether he did it to appear to be putting them on trial or for their own safety is unclear, but when the King evacuated London, he left them behind. Lord Say was the treasurer, so was blamed for the parlous financial state of the country. His son-in-law, William Cromer, was the undersheriff of Kent, so was hated at a local level. The tower was under the control of Lord Scales,

a veteran of the wars in France. He was supported by a Welshman named Matthew Gough, another experienced soldier. So complete was Cade, or Mortimer's, control of the city that when he demanded Lord Say and Cromer be handed over, they were. Lord Say was put on trial at the Guildhall. He demanded trial by his peers, but he never had any hope of a fair hearing. After a show trial, he was hauled to the standard on Cheapside and beheaded. Cromer was taken to Mile End to suffer the same fate. Their heads were placed on spikes on London Bridge,

as traitors' heads traditionally were. Cade was now holding court like a mighty lord. He began to issue safe conducts. One was given to a merchant named Thomas Cock. It said, By this, our writing and seal, we grant that Thomas Cock of London, Draper, shall safely come into our presence and avoid from us again at his pleasure, with all other persons coming in his company. The note was signed, Subscribed thus, His Majesty's loyal subject, John Mortimer. Thomas was ordered to extract from the Italian merchants in the city, armour, weapons, horses

and a thousand marks in cash. They were to be warned that if they failed to comply, Cade would see as many of them beheaded as he could catch. He was in danger of transforming the peaceful occupation into a reign of terror. And then there was that name again, Mortimer. At the end of the day, Cade and his men returned to Southwark once more, recrossing the bridge on the morning of the 5th of July. Now everything began to fall apart. Gregory's Chronicle records that on this day, Cade's men and some London residents began robbing and looting. The iron discipline that had served them so well was slipping.

The day was spent trying to regain control of the mobs that were breaking into sporadic violence and crime across the city. As evening approached, Cade tried to shepherd his men across London Bridge. Inside the tower, Lord Scales and Matthew Gough spied the opportunity they'd been waiting for. They sallied out of the tower, gathering Londoners behind a call to drive out the murderous rebels threatening the city. They moved towards London Bridge and set about trying to repair the drawbridge ropes so that it could be raised. Cade, on hearing of this, turned his men around and stormed the bridge. Both Gregory's Chronicle and an English Chronicle record that fighting on the bridge broke out at 9pm on the 5th of July

and lasted until the middle of the next morning. The fighting was fierce in the narrow, packed darkness of the bridge at night. Casualties were high, bodies poured into the Thames. Some were heard screaming as they fell, but were quickly silenced. Matthew Gough was killed, as well as one of the city's aldermen. At some point on the morning of the 6th of July, a fire broke out on the bridge. It was filled with wooden buildings and erupted into flames. The two forces were driven apart and the men of Kent withdrew. As the dust and ash settled and both sides counted their losses, the Archbishop of York rode to the rebels.

He offered an unconditional pardon to all if they would return to Kent immediately. Realising they'd lost whatever hold they had gained, the men melted back to their homes. I'm Matt Lewis. And I'm Dr Alan Orjanaga. And in Gone Medieval, we get into the greatest mysteries. The gobsmacking details and latest groundbreaking research. From the greatest millennium in human history. We're talking Vikings.

Normans. Kings and popes. Who were rarely the best of friends. Murder. Rebellions. And crusades. Find out who we really were. By subscribing to Gone Medieval from History Hit.

Wherever you get your podcasts. That might have been the end of what had been a shocking enough summer, but it wasn't. With the great threat gone, King Henry wanted vengeance. He emerged from his hiding place, safe in the Midlands, and issued a proclamation that anyone who brought him Jack Cade, dead or alive, would receive a reward of a thousand marks, which was roughly a baron's annual income. Gregory's chronicle explained the about turn. Cade had taken his pardon in the name of John Mortimer, but, Gregory wrote, it was openly known that his name was not Mortimer, his name was John Cade,

and therefore his charter stood in no strength. Alexander Iden, a Kentish man who would soon become the county sheriff, hunted Cade down to Heathfield in East Sussex. He was cornered in a garden and fatally wounded in the scuffle that followed. Cade's dead body was thrown into a cart and taken to Southwark. There, the landlady of the White Hart Inn was required to identify him as the man who had led the uprising. She confirmed it was him. An English chronicle records that his head was smote off and set on London Bridge

and his body quartered and sent to diverse towns of England. The writer concludes the episode by stating, Thus ended the Captain of Mischief. Not yet sated, King Henry sent his forces into Kent to round up anyone else they could find connected to the rebellion. So many were taken and executed that it became known in Kent as the Harvest of the Heads. Cade was attainted in Parliament as a traitor, an odd move against the dead commoner. Henry was shaken. His fear had been clear, but it wasn't just fear of a popular

revolt. The King's terror at the Mortimer name and his growing conviction that the Duke of York was behind everything that was going wrong for him set him on edge and put him on alert. In 1447, when his uncle Humphrey had been arrested and had died in custody, Henry had perceived threats that weren't really there. The question increasingly taxing the minds of the king and those close to him was whether it was paranoia to see York behind all of this or whether the Duke was coming for Henry's throne. Given that it would be another decade before York laid claim to the crown, I'd argue it was Henry's paranoia,

but it was a fear that drove policy for years to come. 1450 was a seismic year. We've seen two murdered bishops, a murdered duke, a popular revolt occupying London, a ruthless persecution of those pardoned. Before the year was out, York would return from Ireland. He claimed he'd come to help. Henry saw only a terrifying threat. When Parliament gathered in London, riots broke out. Henry's new favourite, the Duke of Somerset, was targeted. York firmly restored peace and ended the unrest. Of course, to Henry,

that only meant York had started it so that he could play the hero. In many ways, 1450 set England on a course that led to the Wars of the Roses. Henry's fear spiralled out of control and would soon take his health. York's every move was viewed through the lens of the threat his Mortimer blood posed. The more he tried to help, the more he looked like a wolf, preying on the sheep-like King Henry. Who was Jack Cade? Sadly we'll never know. Was he a soldier from Kent?

A veteran of France who was a charismatic and capable leader of men? Was he an Irishman, as some have suggested, sent by York to foment trouble? There's one intriguing possibility. On the 24th of February 1424, two years into King Henry's reign, when he was still a toddler, Sir John Mortimer was quietly put to death. Imprisoned for allegedly trying to put the last Mortimer male heir, Edmund, 5th Earl of March, onto the throne and executed for trying to escape from the tower, Sir John is otherwise an unknown figure. How he might have been related to Edmund is unclear. Could Jack Cade have been a

remnant of the Mortimer family, out for revenge for the way his kinsmen had been treated? Was he the last of a line covered up by the Lancastrian regime who emerged to assert his birthright? Whoever he was, he must have known what it meant to drag the Mortimer name into the light. The uprising would never be about their demands for reform again. It was a precipice from which this man willingly stepped. We'll never know who he really was, but the story of Jack Cade and his revolt is thrilling and intriguing. It wasn't just London Bridge he left in ashes. Jack Cade was a man who set all of England on fire.

There are new episodes of Gone Medieval every Tuesday and Friday, so please join us next time for more on the greatest millennium in human history. Don't forget to also subscribe or follow us wherever you get your podcast from and to tell all of your friends and family that you've gone medieval. If you do have a moment, please drop us a review or rate us anywhere that you listen to your podcasts. It really does help us to reach new audiences. If you're enjoying this and looking for a bit more medieval goodness in

your life, you could also subscribe to our Medieval Mondays newsletter. Just follow the links in the show notes below. Anyway, I'd better let you go. I've been Matt Lewis, and we've just gone medieval with History Hits. you