“When Adam delved and Eve span, who was then the gentleman?” > John Bull.
The parallels between England’s so-called Peasants’ Revolt of 1381 and contemporary populist rebellion are rather striking.
These men, in the main from the counties of Kent and Essex, were perhaps our original would-be swamp-drainers.
Their
loyalty to the executive, their anointed King, 14-year-old Richard II,
was absolute. Indeed, any of their number who refused to proclaim
unswerving fealty to the monarch was likely to be done in forthwith.
Their
primary enemy was the ‘system’, specifically government ministers and
the MPs who sat in the House of Commons, plus anyone adjacent to the
process of legislation and taxation, lawyers in particular.
The
Commons were in fact a core group chosen from the middle orders, such
as the landholding classes i.e. people who did useful things with land
as opposed to using it as an excuse to run off across the Channel in
order to bash the French, which is what the Lords did. (This was called
Chivalry and it was basically a bottomless financial pit.)
As
the latter activity became ever more fruitless and costly in the late
14th century, so the Commons started voting for measures like the Poll
Tax which went down particularly badly with the lower orders.
When
the Kentish mob under Wat Tyler finally got to voice their grievances
in person to the young King at Smithfield (“smooth field”), it was clear
that the goal was to simplify society, removing all laws and
jurisdictions — such as those of Lords and churchmen — between the
people and the crown, which the peasants, who saw themselves as the
‘true commons’, understood as a radical leveling of the social order,
yet which the young Richard had already intuited as an opportunity to
bolster his own direct sovereign power and a route to the kind of
authoritarian rule which would later on lead to a coup and his demise.
They
also reiterated the key demand of the Essex group, the abolition of
serfdom, even though by tradition there was no serfdom in Kent and
actually very little in Essex. In this lies one of the most important
lessons that History has for us: the people who most clearly yearn for
freedom are those who have had more than a whiff of it.
Prior
to this meeting the mob had burned down the King's uncle John of
Gaunt’s Savoy Palace and, on the other side of the Thames, the
Archbishop of Canterbury’s London crib at Lambeth Palace. As they did
this, they had seemingly been at great pains not to be seen to loot,
happier to smash things up very demonstrably than help themselves to any
loose valuables.
Subsequently
they had also managed to storm the Tower of London, and with clear
echoes of January 6, 2021 at the US Capitol, they did things like taking
turns to lie on the King’s bed.
They
even demanded kisses from the King’s mother Jeannette who had a bit of a
reputation in the land, which she had never quite shaken off.
Oh,
and they also removed the heads of Archbishop Sudbury of Canterbury and
Robert Hales, Prior of the Order of St John of Jerusalem, not by reason
of their elite ecclesiastical roles, but because these men were
Chancellor and Treasurer in the government respectively, and thus
traitorous members of the hated ‘establishment’ (swamp).
The
peasants had also been sidetracked into a burst of xenophobic rage,
taking the lives of many inhabitants of the capital’s Flemish Quarter
“without judgment and without cause” according to a monk at Westminster
Abbey, with mutilated bodies piling up around the streets.
Anyway,
the revolt ended with the King making promises he believed he could
keep and surely wanted to, but in the end could not, because the Lords
and the Commons came together to rather brutally re-establish the
‘natural’ order of things.
One
reason that left wing ideologues struggle a bit with the medieval period
is that this ‘natural’, oppressive order of things lacked the modern
protection mechanisms that are usually cited nowadays: a standing army,
cops, Fox News, indeed any kind of media or propaganda system beyond the
messages pumped out by the Church and these did not really take the
form that said ideologues would like to imagine.
They
are left with ‘deference’, which does seem a bit wishy-washy, and was
rather obviously absent in 1381, except with regard to Royal authority.
To a certain extent, these
events were the result of the ‘class struggle’ which Marx (well, early
Marx) envisioned as the prime driver of History. He would later shift
emphasis to the more impersonal dialectical mechanism, but the truth is
that something had happened in England which his theory could not quite
accommodate, something tremendously random.
Four
decades previously, roughly half the population of England had perished
from The Black Death. This ‘great dying off’ had radically adjusted the
overall economic situation, setting up opportunities for the now
scarcer labour force to improve pay and conditions, even reduce their
working hours.
The Commons, the
landholding and commercial middle orders, stood most to lose from this
sudden social adjustment, precisely at the moment that they were being
asked to foot ever larger bills for the failed foreign escapades
undertaken by Gaunt and the other Lords.
It
would seem that the Commons were becoming genuinely envious of the
gains made by the ‘true commons’ and frustrated by the non-domestic
focus of the elites, so their representatives at Westminster duly
imposed a regressive tax on everyone over the age of 15, three times
more onerous than any prior equivalent, and this basically tossed a
match into the big box of fireworks.
(Below, Grok's
best effort of depicting the scene at Smithfield. Richard is usually
shown on horseback. The peasants look like Arsenal fans.)
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