obedient to us the governors whose names ensue.' To this order Ket's signature and fifty others were attached; and in virtue of a warrant which was liberally construed, the country houses over the whole neighbourhood were entered. Not only were sheep, cows, and poultry driven off, but guns, swords, pikes, lances, bows, were taken possession of in the name of the people. A common stock was formed at Mousehold, where the spoil was distributed; and to make up for past wants, they provided themselves, in the way of diet, so abundantly that, in the time which the camp lasted, twenty thousand sheep were consumed there, with 'infinite beefs,' swans, hinds, ducks, capons, pigs, and venison.
Considering the wild character of the assemblage, the order observed was remarkable. Chaplains were appointed, and morning and evening services—here not objected to—were regularly read. On the oak-tree, which was called the Oak of Reformation, there was placed a pulpit, where the clergy of the neighbourhood came from time to time, and were permitted without obstruction to lecture the people upon submission. Among others, came Matthew Parker, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, who, 'mounting into the oak, advised them to leave off their enterprise,' or, if they refused, at all events not 'to waste their victuals,' nor 'to make the public good a pretext for private revenge.' The magistrates and other local authorities wore powerless. In London, as we have seen, the Protector could not resolve on any distinct course of action. Of the
