action—these signs and warnings of revolution had preceded the death of Edward. But it was the poll-tax which finally exasperated the common people, and stung them into open rebellion. No doubt, as Hollinshed tells us, it was paid "with great grudging and many a bitter curse."
Early in 1381 the massing began; but even now it would be idle to speak of concerted action. The distinguishing marks of this great uprising of the serfs were its spontaneity throughout the south-eastern counties, its lack of organisation, and, so far as one can see, the complete absence of recognised leaders to whom men could look for guidance and direction. The seething irresolute mob, so recently inarticulate, if not absolutely unvocal, had raised its huge limbs without a brain to control them, and had found a voice which proclaimed that forced labour and servitude of any kind should come to an end in England. What might not a capable leader have done in that critical year, with such a host behind him, ready to carry out his behests? But indeed the thing was impossible. There was no discipline—there had been no chance of organisation. Possibly a strenuous man—some English Spartacus with a genius for command might have pitched his camp on a Kentish plain, in the neighbourhood of Maidstone or Canterbury, or even on Blackheath, and there in the course of a few weeks he might have made an army out of a mob. But the mere suggestion of the idea is enough to show its futility: the lapse of time would have enabled the authorities in London to make far more effectual preparations.
