When all was over and there was no more danger, the King returned to London and marched through the City in state. Mindful, perhaps, of Richard’s broken promises of pardon to the rebels, Henry continued his march into Kent and executed twenty-six of them. With these exceptions there seem to have been no other acts of revenge, and the men were tried by the King’s Justices. The usual distribution of rebels’ quarters followed, and the decorations of London Bridge were enlarged by the addition of Jack Cade’s head and by the heads of a few of his companions. When we consider this strange insurrection it is impossible to class it with that of the rabble under Wat Tyler. There were men of substance among Cade’s followers. We do not find that at first they robbed or plundered or committed any acts of violence: they called upon all men to join them; and they undertook, as soon as these things were amended, to go home quietly again. The insurgents were not a mere rabble. In many villages they were regularly called out by the constables. Either they were an orderly body or they were kept in admirable order by this mysterious leader of theirs. It is true that a charge is brought against Jack Cade of taking things from the houses of two rich citizens; and of loading a ship with his plunder. It may be true, on the other hand it may be the invention of an enemy. When, again, we examine into the actual crimes charged against Cade we find that he executed Lord Saye, regarded as one of the greatest enemies of the realm; also Lord Saye’s son-in-law, late High Sheriff for Kent; one man whose offence is unknown; and one or two marauders in his own camp. That concludes the list of executions, or murders. We have also seen that he had influential friends in London. He kept good order; he defeated the royal force sent out to capture him; he sent up to the King, whoever drew it up, a well-drawn statement of grievances; the Archbishop thought it well to confer with him and was under no apprehension of ill treatment; on his giving the word of dismissal his men quietly dispersed and went home. It is impossible to believe that this man was a mere adventurer seeking an opportunity of private pillage. Who he was, what he was, whence he came, why he was made captain of the Kentish army, it is impossible to say. That he was a common robber and murderer the facts of the case will not allow us to believe. That he was considered of great importance is proved by the perfidy which granted him a “charter” of safety and pardon, and yet offered a reward for his body, dead or alive, and set up his head on London Bridge looking towards Kent. The “Short English Chronicle” (“_Three Fifteenth-Century Chronicles_,” Camden Society) contains a memorable statement. The day after the all-night battle of London Bridge, the Chancellor—Cardinal Kemp—went to “the capteyne and gave him a charter and his men another and so withdrewe him homeward.” The “Charter” means a free pardon. Richard II.