At this time the Earl rode into the town, surrounded by a body of retainers, all men of rank, habited in brilliant costume, the livery of the Percies. He was assailed with mingled cheers from his tenants, and hisses and shouts of opprobrium from the insurgent mob. He attempted to address them, but the uproar became greater; again he made the attempt, when there arose a deafening discord of sounds from drums, kettles, and pans, accompanied by the yelling and howling of the mob, when, finding he could not gain their ear, he and his followers turned their horses' heads and trotted back to Topcliffe. As they passed away, the leaders shouted, "Bravely done, my merry men; this is our first victory; let us on to Topcliffe, and beard him in his castle, and then for London, to face the tyrant King in the Tower." The Earl and his followers gained the castle, and were seated in consultation on what were best to be done in the emergency, when loud shouts assailed their ears from outside, and, looking forth, they perceived that they had been followed by the mob, infuriated by the harangues of their leaders. Although implored not to do so, but to shut the gates and stand a siege, the Earl went out and faced the insurgents. "What want you, good people?" he inquired. "A remission of the tax," replied Egremont. "I have no power or authority to do so," said the Earl. "Who but you advised the King that not a penny should be abated?" shouted Chambre, and the mob yelled, and cried, "Down with him; he wants to rob our children of their bread." The Earl was a proud man, and scorned to give a denial to the insinuation, which served to inflame the passions of the rioters to a still higher degree. "He's silent, and that proves his guilt," shouted Chambre. "Down with him; such bloodsuckers should not be allowed to exist." And then there was a brandishing of clubs and a rush forward of the mob, and in a few moments the Earl was stricken down, and beaten savagely as he lay. The mob then entered the castle tumultuously, and killed several of his domestics; but the barons and knights, fled to seek safety, or, as Skelton has it-- "Trustinge in noblemen, that wer wyth hym there; Bot all they fled from hym from falshode or fere, He was envyronde aboute on every syde, Withe his enemys that were stark mad and wode; Yet whils he stode he gave them woundes wyde, Alas! for southe! what thoughe his mynde were goode, His courage manly; yet there he shed his bloode. All left alone, alas! he fowt in vayne, For cruelly among them ther he was slayne."