Short History Of... - The Peasants’ Revolt

Episode Date: September 20, 2026

The so-called Peasants’ Revolt of 1381 was the first mass popular uprising in England. A true people’s revolution, it involved not just peasants but also tradesmen, merchants, artisans, priests, village leaders — an emerging middle-class from the countryside. Their demands were radical; an overhaul of a centuries-old system of power held by aristocrats and the church, and the end of the exploitation of the masses by the elites. By the time it was over, a small, disparate band of disillusioned common people had swollen into an army of tens of thousands, forcing the king himself to listen. How did a village ruckus explode into a national crisis? Who were the rebels willing to die for a cause? And who clung onto power after London fell into anarchy? This is a Short History Of The Peasants’ Revolt. A Noiser podcast production. Hosted by John Hopkins. With thanks to Juliet Barker, a medieval historian and author of the book England, Arise.  Written by Jo Furniss | Produced by Kate Simants | Production Assistant: Chris McDonald | Exec produced by Katrina Hughes | Sound supervisor: Matt Peaty | Sound design by Oliver Sanders | Assembly edit by Dorry Macaulay | Compositions by Oliver Baines, Dorry Macaulay, Tom Pink | Mix & mastering: Cody Reynolds-Shaw | Fact check: Sean Coleman Unlock the next two episodes of Short History Of… right now by subscribing to Noiser+. You’ll also get ad-free listening and early access to shows across the Noiser podcast network, including Real Survival Stories and Sherlock Holmes Short Stories. Just click the subscription banner at the top of the feed, or head to www.noiser.com/subscriptions to get started. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

It is May the 30th, 1381. Thomas Baker, a smallholder of some local standing, approaches the marketplace in Brentwood, the town east of London, and the county of Essex. He has walked for four hours to join hundreds of villagers who have been summoned to a meeting on this damp day. Alongside neighbours from his village of fobbing, Baker greets acquaintances from nearby Corringham and Stanford, Lehope.

There are strangers from further afield, too. their boots covered in the same Essex mud. And they are all equally angry about rumors that their tax bill is about to rise again. Now, with the guard standing to attention, one of the officials, John Bampton, gets to his feet. A wealthy landowner, he is also a justice who often oversees disputes. But the news that he is here today in his role as a royal tax commissioner is received with jeers. The guards rattled their weapons, and the crowd mostly saw. settles, but hekels and sardonic laughter continue to sound from the back.

Ignoring it, Bampton makes his announcement. The payment of the pole tax, set of the amount of 12 pence per person, is due immediately. People react in dismay. There are groans, shouts of indignation. One woman throws a vegetable of the awning, but it lands wetly in the mud. Amid the noise, Thomas Baker raises his hand. As calmly as he can, he says they cannot afford to pay another tax. There are cries of agreement from those around him, but then the guards march forward to seize him.

As he has led away, Brampton announces that anyone refusing to pay will be arrested. The crowd grows restive. One elderly woman at the back lifts her skirt, as he is. have to flash her backside. People laugh, but they know the reference is serious. There have been tales from the neighboring county of Kent that a tax inspector has been insisting on feeling under the skirts of young women, apparently to check if they are old enough to pay their taxes. At least that was his excuse. His assaults have caused outrage and deepened the belief that these taxmen are not to be trusted. As Bampton tries to restore order, Thomas Baker breaks free from the guard.

His fellow villagers surge forwards and storm the shelter. The guards are outnumbered. As fighting breaks out, Bumpton barely manages to gather his vital tax scrolls before fleeing to his horse and riding away. But though the villagers win the skirmish and avoid paying the tax for now, a battle is coming. They must find a way to fight back on a larger scale, to stage a rebellion, the like of which has never been seen in England.

The so-called Peasants' Revolt of 1381 was the first mass popular uprising in England. A true People's Revolution, it involved not just peasants, but also tradesmen, merchants, artisans, priests, village leaders, an emerging middle class from the countryside. Their demands were radical, an overhaul of a centuries-old system of power held by aristocrats and the Church, and the end of the exploitation of the masses by the elites. By the time it was over, a small, disparate band of disillusioned common people had swollen into an army of tens of thousands, forcing the king himself to listen. But how did a village ruckus explode into a national crisis?

Who were the rebels willing to die for a cause? And who clung on to power after London fell into anarchy? I'm John Hopkins. From the Noiser Podcast Network, this is a short history of the peasants' revolt. In the three centuries since the Norman conquest of 1066, the English have been living under a strict feudal system. The land is owned by a 1% elite, the king, the nobles and gentry, and the church. That land is worked by around 90% of the population, either tenants who pay rent for farms or unpaid serfs. their status only differing from that of slaves by virtue of their being bought and sold with the land,

and not individually. The remaining minority are those who do not work in agriculture, merchants, tradespeople, artisans, lower-level clergy. By the 14th century, with the growth of towns and cities, they form an increasingly influential middle class. For the vast majority, life is hard. Most people cannot look for work without the permission of the Lord of their manner. And if you're born poor, there is little chance of escape from the grind. But a brutal catalyst is about to spark change. Juliet Barker is a medieval historian and author of the book England Arise.

There were lots and lots of people who were living on manners where they were obliged to perform services in order to hold their land. They're what we would now call serfs, but were known as villains, and the tenure was known as villainage. And these people wouldn't allow us to leave their manner. They couldn't do all sorts of things. So their lives were very restricted to what the Lord of the Manor wanted them to do. Life was defined by being subject to somebody else.

And then when the Great Plague came along, the Boat death, it completely changed everything. at least half the population was wiped out. And it came in 1348, but it also recurred several times after that. 50% of people died on certain manners, or 78% on one of the Durham Priory mammals. So you left there with landlords who have lots of land, but nobody to look after it.

And for the people who were still alive, it provided an opportunity to change things. It is a question of supply and demand. With a shortage of rural labour due to the epidemic, those who remain can command a better income for their services. Laborers, such as ploughmen, can double or triple their pay. Some people acquire property or land too, creating a new class of independent farmer known as yeoman.

The villains, who never previously received wages, but instead labored for basic sustenance and a roof over their heads now get paid in coin. Better off working people are able to send their children to school. Soon, many more people can read and write, something that not so long ago was limited to few beyond the clergy and aristocracy. Literacy expands as secular schools open up, organized by trade and merchant guilds. A cash economy means people can also purchase healthier food,

such as meat and eggs from the market, rather than surviving on cheap rye cakes handed out by their masters. Some villains, whose fate has always been tied to the land, now begin to leave and seek a better job. People have a freedom that has not existed in living memory. I don't think it's a question of feeling that it's a need to survive anymore, because you've got a surplus. The people who are still left have got more than enough land or whatever to cultivate to feed their families. families, even just taking on other land and using the produce and being able to sell it, take it to the local markets. And I think we forget how intertwined all these agrarian economy was with the local markets. And particularly get that in East Anglia, but more especially in Essex and also in Kent.

You've got lots and lots of people who are starting to send their children out as apprentices in the town. towns to learn trades and become servants where they get a cash economy. And then themselves, they're building up land holdings. And they're building up a much greater independence from the old regime, as it were. The old regime, however, is far from happy about this new system and wants its power back. A law is passed in 1351 called the Statute of Laborers, which aims to restore the old way of life. the hierarchy of feudalism. The statute enforces a national wage freeze.

A haymaker's earnings are capped at one penny a day, a carpenter at threepence. A stonemason can make a daily maximum of fourpence. In addition, the new law decrees that every able-bodied man and woman under 60, who does not own land, must accept any job offered to them. It also outlaws freedom of movement, reinstating the old system of absolute submission to one's lord. Even acts of charity are banned for people who are considered able to work, forcing as many as possible to labour rather than receive arms. The new pay scale is a blunt instrument.

It is applied as a flat rate across the country and doesn't account for any of the regional differences of potential income. For example, a fertile farm in Essex with access to the thriving markets of London can produce a better yield and turn a greater profit than, say, a manor in the northern County of Cumberland that has been ravaged by Scottish raiders damaging its productivity. In the north, the statute becomes unenforceable. Even lords break the law in order to secure working hands during harvest time. By the late 14th century, the statute has caused resentment among farm workers, but also the emerging middle class of country folk who depend on the agrarian economy. In St. Orban's, a town northwest of London, a protest emerges when people

people are forced to pay to use the local abbey's mill to grind their corn into flour, rather than make use of their own freely available handmills. One of the things that the Abbey at St. Holden did was to literally seize all the handbills in the town. And they took them and made them into a pavement in the Abbey so that they could walk on them all the time. It was very unpleasant and really intelligent, educated, living. literate people didn't see why they should be treated like this.

And what they wanted was the restoration of the liberties that they started to enjoy after the black death. At the same time, England is at war against the French. In fact, it has been at war against the French for almost half a century. The conflict was started by a king who staked a claim to the French throne. But though he's now dead and gone, his war continues, and it's bloody, labor intensive and costly. Warfare is usually funded by aristocrats from the profits of their manners, but due to the crisis, that income has waned. The treasury now turns instead to direct taxation, a so-called pole tax. The word pole is an archaic English word for head, so it means the same amount must be paid

per capita, from the poorest serf to the richest baron. For the wealthy, it's a drop in the ocean. For the impoverished, it amounts to a week's worth of food. But despite their hard-earned contributions to the war effort, the people can see that England is on the back foot. What's more, the war is no longer happening far away on the continent, but knocking at their back door. The French naval forces have been on the counterattack, with invasion forces landing on the south coast of Kent and sailing as far as East Anglia, from where they attack merchant ships of the coast of Essex and Suffolk. And just like the French, the taxes keep coming. This September on the Noiser Podcast Network,

on Jane Austen's stories, Dame Julie Andrews, continues to bring Austin's beloved classic Emma to life. On short history of, we're in medieval England for the fascinating story of the Peasants' Revolt, and 25 years on from 9-11 were on the ground in New York City. On real survival stories, we're on a luscious winery in northwest America, and venturing into a missile silo in the dead of night as the US is threatened with nuclear disaster. And in Sherlock Holmes short stories, get two episodes each week

as Hugh Bonneville explores Conan Doyle's great novel, A Study in Scarlet. Get all of these shows and more early and ad-free on Noiser Plus. I'm Julie Andrews, and it is my great pleasure to return to Jane Austen stories. This time I'll be reading another beloved classic Emma.

Join me as we step into the village of Highbury, home to the handsome and clever Emma Woodhouse. But as new visitors arrive and quiet mysteries unfold, what will our strong-willed heroine learn both of the secrets of others and of her own heart's desires? Listen to Jane Austen's stories now wherever you get your podcasts. In 1380, Parliament imposes a third poll tax, the highest yet, at a one-off payment of 12 pence per person. Perhaps two weeks' salary for a menial worker, it must be paid by every individual over the age of 15, a devastating amount for a rural family. Villages like Thomas Baker from fobbing in Essex refused to pay.

And the pushback only intensifies when stories circulate about the taxman John Legg, who, it said, abuses his power by lifting young women's skirts to check if they're mature enough to pay the tax. Whether true or exaggerated, the allegations reflect a level of contempt shown by tax collectors and for them. He's all added up to make a feeling that the officialdom was crushing them and that it was corrupt from root and branch. It causes huge anger and it's all in such a short amount of time, we're talking 1377 to 3081 when the revolt breaks out. And that sort of crushing sense of being taxed and being forced to pay money for failed campaigns

is the thing that really sparks it off. To make matters worse, there is no strong head of state to whom people can appeal. The current king, Richard II, has been on the throne for four years, but he's still only 14 years old. Slight, pale and fair, he enjoys activities like hunting and hawking, but refuses to joust or fight for fear of losing his dignity. Although portraits from this period are rare, there are more surviving paintings of Richard II than any monarch until Henry VIII. Such was Richard's concern with his self-image. But in 1381, he is nonetheless still a child, with his powerful advisors pulling the strings. It's the classic instance of having a child on the throne who is not competent to rule in his own right, and yet he's an absolute monarch.

So his advisors, those around him are always the ones who, whenever there's any sort of problem, they're the ones that get blamed. And in the case of the Great Revolt, that is exactly what happened. And Richard's uncles, particularly John of Gaunt, who was the most powerful man in the king, kingdom were universally loathed throughout the whole of the country for their vast wealth that was assumed to be taken from people who had up their noses rubbed in as it were, huge landowner and with enormous power and also with great ambitions of his own. People in Essex and Kent decide it is time to take action and focus their ire upon aristocrats like John of Gaunt.

There is no single rebel leader and no one group that incites revolt. Instead, communities in various towns and villages coordinate their efforts. It is relatively easy to communicate the plan. Travel is common for medieval people, especially in this part of the country. Merchants and pilgrims move quickly on horseback or foot along old Roman roads like Watling Street. Though Essex and Kent are separated by the River Thames, ferries crisscross its estuary between the ports of Gravesend and Tilbury. The planned revolt is supported by boatmen, who carry secret messages urging people to rise up and unite. Many priests are also on side, their sympathy for the cause overlapping with their opposition to the corruption of powerful church institutions.

Wealthy abbeys, such as the one in St. Orban's, have been increasingly seen to exploit the local community as much as any land baron. Unable to remain neutral, priests read out the rallying cries during sermons, and traveling preachers spread the word of both God and the rebels. The uprising springs from Essex and Kent, areas close to London, where the rural middle class is literate, prosperous, and has a lot to lose from punitive taxes. But despite the name given by historians much later, they are not all peasants. In fact, What becomes a widespread rebellion is headed by people who are educated and professional with knowledge of the legal and administrative systems that grind them down.

They wanted, first and foremost, to destroy all paperwork, all the memorial records and the royal records of the poll tax, so that those couldn't be used against them in future. Then they wanted to replace, particularly the menorial records, with ones that set out in detail, their rights to hold land by paying rent without having to pay bodily services. Among the agitators is Walter Tyler, better known to history as What Tyler. A charismatic man, with enough influence to raise an amateur army, he bursts into the Chronicles

on June the 7th, 1381, when he is elected leader of the Kentish rebels at a large gathering in Maidstone. As a lowly tradesman, there are no official records revealing Tyler's origins. Perhaps, as his name suggests, he works with tiles, laying clay or stone roofs. Quite likely, he has military training, thanks to the previous king's obsession with the war in France. Edward III had introduced a statute, forced all men between the ages of 16 and 60, to have the proper requisite armour required for being an archer. So they had to have their long bow, they have to have their arrows, and they have to be prepared to fight. So you've got to have to have. a lot of men here who are in that situation who have trained at least once a week to be fighters.

And they are the ones that called on every time that there's going to be a campaign against France or whatever. And this is why it's possible that what Tyler himself was one of those men, because he might have been a soldier. After receiving the mandate from those gathered in Maidstone, what Tyler marches around 35 miles east to Canterbury. His militia grows in size as more villagers join the band. They follow the well-trodden pilgrim's way along the North Downs to reach the famous cathedral. This is the Mother Church, the birthplace of English Christianity since its founding in 597. The Archbishop of Canterbury then, as now, is the most senior church leader in England. In 1381, the role is held by Simon Sudbury. He is also the king's chief minister and head of

government, meaning he has a tight hold on both reigns of power, the state and the church. As such, Sudbury is high on the Rebels' most wanted list. But when they get to the cathedral, they find that he is in London. Even so, they find other business to keep themselves occupied in Canterbury. So the reason that Kent Rebels target Canterbury is because that's where the sheriff was, and he had all the Polterx records and all the records of royal tax collection. there, so they go straight there to destroy those first and foremost. And I think what's really interesting about the Great Revolt is that in almost all cases, particularly in Essex and Kent, but elsewhere too, once they had destroyed the royal records, destroyed the menorial records,

sometimes very occasionally beaten up or even murdered the officials in charge, most rebels went home. What Tyler rallies his remaining supporters, numbering in the tens of thousands, and sets off to London. At the same time, north of the Thames in Essex, another local leader is amassing an army. John Ball is an itinerant preacher, an ordained priest without a parish, and has a reputation as a firebrand. Disgusted by the wealth held by church officials and abbeys, he delivers heated sermons, promoting egalitarianism and argues that the feudal system goes against the will of God and the teachings of the Bible. He famously asks, when Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman? Meaning that if everyone descends from Adam and Eve as the Bible states, then the nobility

have no special right to rule. But his indignant speeches get him excommunicated and eventually incarcerated. The chronicles written after the event suggest that John Ball is imprisoned at Maidstone Jail, where he is busted out by Watt Tyler and his men. More recent research suggests he was held in a town called Bishop Stortford before being released by sympathizers. The rebels on their way to London from Essex went to Bishop Storkford and extracted him from the prison and he went with them. So he's a figurehead. There's no way to He could have done the military side, the leadership's role in that sense. But he is your inflammatory person to inspire your troops.

50,000 people from Essex march on London from the east, while What Tyler's army now advanced from the south. The Pinser movement throws the authorities onto the back foot. When news of the impending attack reaches the capital, many of the young king's advisors are absent, including his powerful uncle, John of Gaunt, who is currently in the north. The remaining council summon Richard from Windsor Castle and secure him at the highly fortified

Tower of London. The ruling elites join him inside the battlements. The Lord Treasurer Sir Robert Hales is there, as is Simon Sudbury, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the hated poll tax official John Legg, and William Walworth, a prosperous fishmonger turned Lord Mayor of London. On Wednesday June 12th, Watt Tyler reaches the city boundary. He sets up camp at Black Heath, an uncultivated area of elevated land close to modern-day Greenwich that gives a good view over London. The story goes that a nobleman called Sir John Newington is sent to deliver a message to the king.

He has little choice, as the rebels are holding his children hostage after seizing them from Rochester Castle in Kent. Newington prostrates himself before the king, begging him to parlay with Tyler for the sake of his family. Richard agrees. As the sun sets, England's rulers in the tower make out pinpricks of orange light on the horizon, campfires of the rebels on Blackheath. In return, the rebels conceive the distinctive white stones of the most heavily fortified

keep in England and wonder how they will ever break its defenses. The next morning, five barges set off down the Thames, carrying the king and his delegation. But when they see the scale of the army, they refuse to disembark. bark. In panic, they head back upstream to the sanctuary of the tower, while the rebel army follow along the riverbank. It is a race now. The royal barges make it back to safety, while Tyler's army is held outside the city limits in what is now Southwark. London itself is a densely packed city of 50,000 residents, crammed inside the original Roman walls. It is a warren of unpaved streets with open sewers, with buildings growing ever larger to house the urban population and immigrant traders.

At this time, London Bridge is the only fixed crossing over the Thames and acts as the main gateway to the city. A massive stone structure, it is lined with shops teetering over the filthy water of the river, with a forbidding port-cullis built at the south end. It is here that the army is delayed. After the mob set fire to a brothel owned by William Walworth, the Lord Mayor, the guards on London Bridge open the gates. Perhaps it is a practical decision. If the mob were to attack the bridge, it would mean disaster for the economy of the port city. Additionally, Londoners themselves are deeply divided and many support the rebellion. London had always had revolts within its precincts.

Riots were regular. And like many towns throughout the country where the same thing was repeated, there was a class of people who were the high oligarchs who ruled the town and were in charge of all the administration. And then there was also a huge wave of people coming up through society's ranks who have no voice in the local government, who were keen to take more authority onto themselves. So they are your ripe rebels.

What Tyler's supporters stream across London Bridge. The second army approaching from Essex enters London at Aldgate in the east. By now, rebels almost outnumber the regular population of the city. Most country folk don't know the labyrinthine streets, but sympathetic locals help them find their first target, the home of the deeply unpopular John of Gaunt. The richest man in England, his residence is the Savoy Palace, the site of the modern-day Savoy Hotel on the Strand.

The magnificent home is arranged around a central courtyard and houses not just the family but also Gaunt's private guard of knights and hundreds of clerks and servants. On a scale more like a country estate, it comprises 13 acres of gardens with fishing ponds, orchards and a vegetable farm, running down to the banks of the Thames where a stone watergate allows barges to dock. The centrepiece of the palace is a great hall where diplomatic councils and feasts are held

on a floor decorated with vibrant earthenware tiles. It's the most opulent and richly furnished private mansion in the land and possibly even the continent. As the rebels arrive, they discover Gaunt is away on business and are able to swarm his remaining guard with sheer numbers. They literally sacked it, but they didn't steal. and even the chroniclers comment on that, they didn't steal, they actually destroyed it, destroyed the pieces of gold, destroyed everything they could, because they wanted to bring him down and destroy him.

One rebel who tries to slip a piece of silver inside his jacket is spotted by his fellow raiders and executed on the spot. Elsewhere in the complex, tireless supporters, smash, precious metalwork, silver plate, jewels and furnishings, dumping what they cannot pulverize into the river. Silks, furs and tapestries are ripped to ribbons. Bonfires are fed with Gaunt's land records, disabling his ability to collect future taxes. Finally, the rebels use his own stockpile of gunpowder to blow the place apart. For over a century afterwards, the site of the Savoy Palace will mostly sit derelict, with a small portion

being repurposed as a prison. It is not until the Tudor era that the area is restored. ironically turned into a shelter for the city's homeless. Back in 1381, one eyewitness to the violence is the poet Geoffrey Chaucer, who will later become famous for writing the stories of pilgrims known as the Canterbury Tales. Watching the arrival of the Essex army from his Aldgate apartment, he writes that there was a great massacre of Flemmings, meaning merchants from Flanders who dominate the cloth industry, and reports seeing 40 headless bodies.

But historians take his claims with a pinch of salt. Like many later chroniclers, Chaucer has an agenda, coming as he does from an elite social class and enjoying royal patronage. Indeed, the poet later becomes brother-in-law to John of Gaunt himself. Though the violence is likely overstated, and the destruction of property characterized with unusual discipline, there are other rebels with a lust for blood. What Tyler is part of a group who somehow get into,

the Tower of London. Maybe they sweet talk their way in, or perhaps there is another sympathetic guard on the gate. Among this group of rebels is Thomas Baker. The man whose refusal to pay the poll tax in Essex caused a ruckus at the marketplace some weeks ago. Once inside, they go looking for their most wanted. Don't you wish you could just hit skip on the worst parts of your life? You know the same way you can skip an ad? I get it. I'm Siaya and I live in Ice Cove. I've made some questionable decisions that didn't end up the way I planned. And today, I'm still figuring it out. Somehow, things usually get worse before they get better. Apparently, that's how I roll. So bundle up and come along for the bumpy ride.

Stream a new episode of North of North Tuesdays on CBC Gem. This September, on the Noiser Podcast Network. On Jane Austen stories, Dame Julie Andrews continues to bring Austin's beloved classic Emma to life. On short history of, we're in medieval England for the fascinating story of the Peasants' Revolt, and 25 years on from 9-11 were on the ground in New York City. On real survival stories, we're on a luscious winery in Northwest America, and venturing into a missile silo in the dead of night, as the U.S. is threatened with nuclear disaster.

And, in Sherlock Holmes short stories, get two episodes each week as Hugh Bonneville explores Conan Doyle's great novel, A Study in Scarlet. Get all of these shows and more early and add free on Noiser Plus. It is the 14th of June 1381 in St. John's Chapel. The king's own place of worship at the top of the White Tower, built in 1080 for William the Conqueror. The atmosphere is hushed, the setting austere but spectacular. A horseshoe of pale arches in creamy con stone

gives the impression of a larger church. Candles reflect in the gold of religious. icons. A large cross stands on the altar in the apse window. On floor level are eight wooden pews. Here a small group of elites are sheltering down on their knees, heads bent in prayer. At the altar stands the most senior church leader in the country, Archbishop Simon Sudbury. Dressed in his finery, a linen cassock covered by silk jazubal and a pointed mitre hat, he projects an image of authority. As Lord Chancellor, he also has a luxurious state robe,

weighing heavily on his shoulders. In a low voice, he recites a prayer. Omnes Sancti Orate pro nobis. All saints pray for us. He has already taken the confessions of his frightened congregation. These men expect to die today and want to be prepared. Now through the window comes the sound of shouting down in the courtyard, a clash of swords. The men clasped their hands and pray harder, trying to drown out the noise.

But soon screams are echoing through the internal stone corridors, accompanied by a drumroll of heavy feet pounding up stone steps. Some of those in the chapel cry out. Archbishop Sudbury reassures them. A chapel is sacred ground. They are safe. But he is underestimated the wrong. of those outside. The doors burst open and rough-looking men block the doorway. They are filthy, stinking of blood and sweat.

But the splendor of the King's Chapel can intimidate even the most arrogant of men, kings among them, and for a long moment the rebels hesitate. Sudbury turns his back to kneel before the cross once more and continues his prayer. Heavy boots approach. He prays louder, hoping beyond the cross. hoping beyond hope that even if these men do not respect him or even their king, they will be cowed by the word of God spoken in his house. He speaks the words again, Omnes Sancti Orati pro nobis.

But no sooner has he finished than a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. The rebels drag Sudbury outside. They also take the Lord Treasurer and John Legg, the infamous taxman who carried out his crude checks on young women in Canada. The captives are marched up Tower Hill. Then, without trial, Sudbury is forced back to his knees, this time before an amateur executioner. The axeman takes a swing that slices open the archbishop's neck, but he lives. Sudbury cries out that his survival must be the will of God, but the executioner is not deterred.

A second blow severs Sudbury's fingers as they clutch at his injury. It takes a total of eight blows to kill him. His severed head is mounted on a pole and raised over London Bridge. Later it will be recovered and preserved. His skull is still on display today, in a church in the village of Sudbury in Suffolk. The rebels kill five people from the tower. It isn't a massacre.

The victims are carefully chosen. But one person who is conspicuously missing from this group of elites is King Richard. Having agreed to meet another group of rebels in Mile End, he rode out earlier that morning. The rendezvous point is now a busy neighbourhood in London's East End, but in 1381 it is a large, open common, exactly one mile from the city's boundary. Here, Richard meets the disgruntled delegates face to face. I do think there is a strong element that maybe he was indeed sympathetic to their aims and felt the injustices.

And so when he agreed to go to Mile End, and he met the rebels in person there, and he literally agreed their demands, he agreed to free all the serfs who appealed to him, not a blanket, freeing, but a freeing of all those, of trying to rectify all the injustices. He agreed to deal with all that, and he started to actually issue charters,

freeing people, giving people new freedoms. he may not have thought through the consequences of that. All the while, Richard remains oblivious to the violence back in the city, including the executions of his most senior advisors at the tower. After his meeting, most of the rebels are allowed to depart to journey back to Essex and Kent. Having secured pardons and concessions direct from the king, their uprising has been a triumph, or so they think. they were then able to go back to their towns and to where they'd come from

weakly written word supporting what they had appealed for so they were right you know I have a charter and that in a way was perhaps one of the worst things that happened really because it meant that people then went back to their homes started again and they said we've got the charters and they tacked St. Albans they attacked Bury St Edmonds all these places that haven't been involved in the actual revolt up to that stage because they went to put things right and they thought they were doing what the king wanted. Richard returns to London to find a situation even worse than he left it a few hours earlier. His remaining council is divided between doves and hawks, those who would negotiate and those who would fight. The young king summons the rebels

to a second meeting. At the very least, he hopes it will successfully draw the insurgents out of the city. Both sides gather at Smithfield, a flat meadow outside the city walls. It is used as a livestock and horse market, a venue for jousts and tournaments, and a place of public executions. Any event likely to draw a large crowd. It is June the 15th, 1381. Thousands of rebels gather on the grassland of Smithfield looking back towards the city. A small entourage approaches on horseback at a sedate canter. At the front, riding on a handsome charger is a slight figure, the royal standard flying high above him, showing the white heart. Word goes round, the king is here. Among the rebels, a drummer starts up, and a bagpipe joins in, a rhythmic tune, the sort that keeps time when people

are carrying out manual labour, digging in the fields or hoisting sails on ships, the music of the common man. But not all the dissidents share the celebratory mood. Some rest their fingertips on their weapons, or check their stock of arrows, and ensure bows are securely strung across their backs. Although Richard is accompanied by a modest guard, they are not about to forget that his soldiers are professionals with swords and even firearms that use gunpowder. The Smithfield is boxed in. Roman walls line its southern boundary, the river fleet to the wall. west and a priory to the east. If violence ensues, the rebels are trapped and can only retreat north away from the city. The music comes to a stop as the king reaches the mass of his people.

What Tyler steps forward. His tunic and breeches are dirty after days on the road, and along the way he has lost the simple hood he usually wears. Nonetheless, he is dignified as he greets the king. Pleasantries out of the way, he makes two new, demands of the monarch, who has been sympathetic to their cause so far. The rebels want him to confiscate land and property held by the church, and also to abolish the tradition of lordship. Richard is visibly stunned. Granting such requests would mean dismantling the whole feudal system in favor of equality,

a culture shift that would entirely revolutionize economics. It is too much to ask. The king turns his horse away, what Tyler reaches out to grab its bridle. One of the king's men rushes forward and shoves the rebel leader. There are shouts and barked insults. Tyler shows a fist to the lackey, an insulting gesture which proves incendiary. Another man, William Walworth, the mayor of London, springs forward and jabs at him. But instead of retaliating, Tyler grasps his stomach.

When he staggers back, his hands are covered in blood. A soldier finishes him off with a swish of a sword to the throat. Tyler drops onto the grass. Almost as one, the great gathering emits a roar of shock and anger. Their leader lies dead, murdered in front of the king who promised to help them. But as the rebels draw their weapons, the king, instead of fleeing, spurs his horse into the fray and raises a sword. He is a child, but his voice is powerful when he shouts to the stunned rebels,

I am your captain. Follow me. The rebels have long said they have no argument with the king, only his hated advisors, and most of them are now dead. When Richard steps into the role vacated by Watt Tyler, offering himself as their leader, he draws them away from London to disperse back in the world. to the countryside. It is a masterstroke from the young king. That's an amazing thing for him to do.

And again, it implies some sort of sympathetically rebels. And he saved the situation as a 14-year-old. So it is quite an extraordinary event, and it could easily have gone the other way. Some people have argued that it was all an ambush and that the Londoners, the mayor and his alderman had set a ring of soldiers round the Smithfield itself, and they were going to come in But how could they have done that with the king in the middle? It doesn't work, does it? Whether the king is genuinely moved by the plight of the true commons, as they are known, or merely cunningly gets rid of them with empty promises,

his attitude soon changes. Under pressure from his advisers, a few days later on June the 23rd, he revokes the concessions he made to the rebels. They are not free. They are not pardoned. Throughout July, the Royal Army mobilizes around the countryside. Their retribution is brutal.

The firebrand preacher John Ball is captured and taken to St. Orban's. With King Richard in attendance, he is hanged, dragged through the streets behind a horse, and then courted. His body divided into four parts that are put on display around the country to warn other rebels. His head is mounted on a spike on London Bridge, reportedly swapped out with that of the recently killed Archbishop of Canterbury. And so the great uprising is put down. But the events of a few days in June 1381

fire a warning shot across the bows of the great juggernaut of government. The richest man in England, John of Gaunt, has had his lavish home, the Savoy Palace, blown to pieces. The loss costs the equivalent of millions of pounds, but his pockets are deep enough to fund a new project, a doomed campaign to seize the throne of Castile in modern-day Spain, to which he has a claim through marriage. And though his nephew, King Richard, gains confidence from his handling of the rebels,

many of his advisors are now dead. The head of the church, the chief of the treasury, the most senior justice, all gone. Parliament is shocked by the power of the masses, and how easy it was for simple country people to hold the city to ransom. Perhaps fearful of a rematch, they abandoned the hated poll tax. A flat rate per capita levy is not seen again in England for another 600 years. The rebellion is also a catalyst for the decline of serfdom and the feudal system. Although Richard revokes his great promise of freedom, landowners are stunned by the way

the literate rebels destroyed minorial records on which their claim to property depended. Many voluntarily emancipate their villains to prevent local uprisings. While serfdom does not end with a victory parade of peasants in 1381, it withers over subsequent generations. Within a century, bonded labour is virtually non-existent. But with the status quo defeated by the spread of literacy, as well as direct action, it is perhaps misleading that the great uprising goes down in history as the peasants revolt. The explanation is simply that the events are chronicled by monks who live in wealthy abbeys. It is in their interests and the interests of their moneyed patrons to present the rebels as a baying mob of peasants with pitchforks.

The people who led the Great Revolt were, on the whole, educated, reasonably well-off people, and they were able to lead because they had an education, because they had the means to be involved in that. They were not a rampaging horde of peasants from the fields. And this is why it was such a dangerous revolt and why the chroniclers were anxious to portray it as just being ignorance, rural people, because they were terrified it would happen again. The chroniclers concentrate on the murders of which there were remarkably few. More people were executed after the revolt than were killed in the revolt.

This September on the Noiser Podcast Network. On Jane Austen stories, Dame Julie Andrews continues to be. bring Austin's beloved classic Emma to life. On short history of, we're in medieval England for the fascinating story of the Peasant's Revolt, and 25 years on from 9-11 were on the ground in New York City. On real survival stories, we're on a luscious winery in Northwest America, and venturing into a missile silo in the dead of night as the U.S. is threatened with nuclear disaster. And in Sherlock Holmes short stories, get two episodes each week as Hugh Bonneville explores

Conan Doyle's great novel, A Study in Scarlet. Get all of these shows and more early and add free on Noiser Plus. As the pages of history books turn, the whole project of the Great Revolt becomes synonymous with one name, that of Watt Tyler. Although in reality the rebellion had many local leaders, it is he who becomes a figurehead for resistance. The archetype of the Honorable Rebel becomes a core element of English mythology. Though the character of Robin Hood, who famously steals from the rich to give to the poor,

exists in legend before the uprising, in its aftermath the story changes to incorporate the same grievances and social ideals as those epitomized by Tyler. Before 1381, Robin Hood was akin to a mercenary. Afterwards, he becomes a symbol of the common man, valiantly opposing the cruelty of the Sheriff of Nottingham and the corruption of the clergy while remaining loyal to the king. king. He even, like What Tyler, gains a trademark hood. For those more interested in fact than fiction, the name of What Tyler echoes through history as an inspiration for socialist movements. In his 1791 treatise, The Rights of Man, Thomas Payne praises Tyler as a bold,

honest man who stood up against feudal tyranny. A century later, during the socialist movement of the 19th century, William Morris uses Ball and Tyler's stories in his left-wing writings. And more recently, in the 1990s, when Margaret Thatcher's government introduced a community charge, popularly called a poll tax, the name and image of what Tyler is used by demonstrators. The invocation helps mobilize millions into protests that force the tax to be abandoned once again. Over 600 years since he was born, What Tyler remains and inspiration for leftist thinkers. With Robin Hood, he becomes the champion of the poor

and the champion of equality, which is a compelling idea, isn't it? And you can understand why they would look to somebody like what Tyler and John Ballandee for inspiration because they do encapsulate those same ideas. I love the idea that in the panticle tax leaflets, they actually put avenge What Tyler in 1990, when the next poll tax is led, they dare to do another poll tax. His great revolt is in its own time a failure.

But the ghosts of What Tyler, John Ball, and the thousands who marched behind them haunt the halls of Westminster. The cruel engine of serfdom grinds door halt not because of the mercy of King Richard, but because the ruling class lives in terror of another uprising. and those who govern from on high are kept in check, at least to some extent, by the power of the people. Next time on Short History of We'll bring you part one of a special two-part, short history of the English Civil Wars. The king eventually flees from London at this point because he's raised such a sort of outrage in the capital, and in no time at all, Pyrman and his allies are back in Parliament, and announcing that, you know, the king's attempt to arrest them with his troops at his back was proof that what they're

been saying all along was true that there is a Catholic plot against Parliament and that the king is determined to take power by force. And they claim that the whole of Parliament was on the point of being massacred when Charles arrived and had it not been for divine aid, you know, he would have killed all of the MPs there and then. I mean, there's no evidence at all that that was the case. But it is gold dust from their point of view. It's like a massive propaganda victory. That's next time. You can listen to the next two episodes of Short History of Right now without waiting and without adverts by subscribing to Noyser Plus. Just hit the link in the episode description or head to www.noiser.com forward slash subscriptions to unlock more episodes today.

This September on the Noyser podcast network, on Jane Austen's stories, Dame Julie Andrews continues to bring Austin's beloved classic Emma to life. On short history of, we're in medieval England for the fascinating story of the Peasants' Revolt, and 25 years on from 9-11, were on the ground in New York City. On real survival stories, we're on a luscious winery in Northwest America and venturing into a missile silo in the dead of night as the US is threatened with nuclear disaster. And in Sherlock Holmes short stories,

get two episodes each week as Hugh Bonneville explores Conan Doyle's great novel, A Study in Scarlet. Get all of these shows and more early and add-free on Noiser Plus.