What happened in London was repeated in different forms in various parts
of England. In Norwich there was a tumult, which it needed the presence
of the Duke of Norfolk to appease. He asked the confused assembly who
was their captain, and bade that he should speak. Then out spake one
John Greene, a man of fifty years. "My lord, since you ask who is our
captain, forsooth, his name is Poverty; for he and his cousin Necessity
have brought us to this doing. For all these persons and many more live
not of ourselves, but we live by the substantial occupiers of this
country; and yet they give us so little wages for our workmanship that
scarcely we be able to live; and thus in penury we pass the time, we,
our wives and children: and if they, by whom we live, be brought in that
case that they of their little cannot help us to earn our living, then
must we perish and die miserably. I speak this, my lord: the clothmakers
have put away all their people, and a far greater number, from work. The
husbandmen have put away their servants and given up household; they say
the king asketh so much that they be not able to do as they have done
before this time, and then of necessity must we die wretchedly."
John Greene's speech expressed only too truly the condition of affairs
in a period of social change. The old nobility had declined, and the old
form of life founded on feudalism was slowly passing away. Trade was
becoming more important than agriculture; the growth of wool was more
profitable than the growth of corn. It is true that England as a whole
was growing richer, and that the standard of comfort was rising; but
there was a great displacement of labour, and consequent discontent. The
towns had thriven at the expense of the country; and in late years the
war with France had hindered trade with the Netherlands. The custom
duties had diminished, the drain of bullion for war expenses had
crippled English commerce. There had been a succession of bad seasons,
and every one had begun to diminish his establishment and look more
carefully after his expenditure.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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