National Dong Hwa University Institutional Repository:Item 987654321/3212

July 2001,pp.269-322

College of Humanities and Social Sciences National Dong Hwa University

Order Culled from Chaos:

Fact, Fiction, and the Historic Imagination at Work and Play in the Brut

Robert A. Albano

One of the most remarkable domestic events in the history of medieval England is the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. During the fourteenth century the people of England were steeped in Roman Catholic values and assumptions, among them the belief that the king held his position as supreme ruler of the land by the will and providence of God. For such a people to rise against their king, then, was not only an act against king and country, it was also an act against God and Heaven. Traditional historians, not surprisingly, have examined the event for the cause and effect relationship. In-depth studies of the event, however, wherein historians examine more minute details and the human factors of the personalities involved, diverge considerably on details, large and small. The reason for this is that the chronicles from the fourteenth century also diverge considerably.

The writing of history during the Middle Ages followed different forms and conventions from what is commonly used today. So, a scholar of history must factor in the historiographical process of the medieval

chronicler in order to assess, as much as it is possible, the relative truth of an event. The process of historiography during the Middle Ages involved similar political and cultural biases that appear in the writing of history throughout the ages. But especially the religious world view dominates the thought of the chroniclers, who, if not clerics themselves, were certainly educated in the universities controlled by the Church. Such a process of cultural and religious influence on the historiography concerning the Peasants' Revolt is evident in one of the most popular chronicles from medieval England, the Brut. Through an understanding of the political, cultural, and religious perspectives of the medieval chronicler and through an understanding of the writing process evident in that time, modern historians and readers alike will be better able to understand and assess the historical accounts that appear in medieval historical writing.

Dong Hwa Journal of Humanistic Studies.No.3

Keywords:

Brut,

The writing of history during the Middle Ages followed different forms and conventions from what is commonly used today. So, a scholar of history must factor in the historiographical process of the medieval chronicler in order to assess, as much as it is possible, the relative truth of an event. The process of historiography during the Middle Ages involved similar political and cultural biases that appear in the writing of history throughout the ages. But especially the religious world view dominates the thought of the chroniclers, who, if not clerics themselves, were certainly educated in the universities controlled by the Church. Such a process of cultural and religious influence on the historiography concerning the Peasants' Revolt is evident in one of the most popular chronicles from medieval England, the Brut. Through an understanding of the political, cultural, and religious perspectives of the medieval chronicler and through an understanding of the writing process evident in that time, modern historians and readers alike will be better able to understand and assess the historical accounts that appear in medieval historical writing.

Order Culled from Chaos:

Fact, Fiction, and the Historic Imagination at Work and Play in the Brut

Robert A. Albano

Department of English National Dong Hwa Univeristy

1. Introduction

One of the most remarkable domestic events in the history of medieval England is the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. During the fourteenth century the people of England were steeped in Roman Catholic values and assumptions, among them the belief that the king held his position as supreme ruler of the land by the will and providence of God. For such a people to rise against their king, then, was not only an act against king and country, it was also an act against God and Heaven. Traditional historians, not surprisingly, have examined the event for the cause and effect relationship. According to The Oxford History of Britain, for example, the effect stems from many causes: "economic, social, political, and military strains"; but the precipitating event was "a series of poll taxes imposed during 1377-80 to finance the war" against France (Griffiths 206, 218). In-depth studies of the event, however, wherein historians examine more minute details and the human factors of the personalities involved, diverge considerably on details large and small. The reason for this is that the chronicles from the fourteenth century also diverge considerably.

2. Theoretical Considerations: Hayden White

The methodology used for this present study embodies the notion that the historiographical act is one of reconstruction. Historical events can never be duplicated, for the context in which they occur can never be recaptured. The historiographer, then, can only assimilate such a context; and he accomplishes this through a process involving the historic imagination.

Post-modernist historians (such as Robert D'Amico) often employ the word reconstruction in order to describe the text of the historiographer. Such historians agree with Hayden White that the post-modernist view is inherently a positive one; for such reconstructions, although they do not replace the historical events that they attempt to describe, supply a wealth of information not only about the specific time and events but also about the writer and his subjective point of view. But these reconstructions do rely upon the use of the historic imagination.

Hayden White is one of many historians who has struggled with defining his role as historian and believes that today it is not quite possible to define the role of the post-modern historian (White, Content 187-88). The major conflict for intellectual historians, as White sees it, occurs as a conflict between science and ideology. Scientific intellectual historians claim that they are capable of ascertaining an objective view of reality, but ideological intellectual historians perceive the historians view as distorted or fragmented (Content 190). Both White and LaCapra believe in this "ideological" approach to intellectual history, yet both also approach such distorted views in an optimistic manner.

The historic imagination, like the literary imagination, proceeds through a number of steps or levels in order to produce the final product, which, in the case of the historiographer, is the historical text or chronicle. Because the historiographer utilizes the same procedures as the writer of fiction, his product also bears a number of similarities to fictional works of literature. And because of these similarities, the tools of the literary critic can be applied to the historical text.

Hayden White sets up a realistic, applicable, and workable approach to the imaginative reconstructions written by historiographers and examines at least some of the contexts that LaCapra mentions (Rethinking 29-58) as necessary for understanding historical texts. White asserts that his principle aim is to locate and analyze "the poetic elements of historiography"; but White first sees the necessity to examine the aesthetic and moral dimensions of an historical text (White, Metahistory x). Yet White also asserts that the historical critic can even accomplish this deeper level of examining the text quite easily.

Theories regarding the state of historiography and the methodology used to examine historical texts as products of the historic imagination begin with Michel Foucault and have been developed by both Dominick LaCapra and Hayden White. At present, the most viable and practical literary method to approach historiography is the one developed by White. In his innovative and intriguing text, Metahistory, White paved the way for future historians. White sets out, as it is suggested in the subtitle of his text, to explore The Historical Imagination in Nineteenth-Century Europe. By employing the term imagination, White is indicating that there exists a creative aspect to the writing of history, an imaginative and artistic aspect that varies from one individual historiographer to another.

For his in-depth critical analysis, White identifies four "strategies" of the historian: (1) emplotment, (2) formal argument, (3) ideological implication, and (4) figuration by tropes. White divides each of these strategies into four modes of articulation. Although the first and fourth of these strategies clearly reveal the literary approach that White utilizes, the second and third indicate his desire to examine other contexts operating within and without the text, specifically philosophical and political or

ideological contexts. The following table indicates the breakdown of each strategy into its four component modes:

EMPLOTMENT ARGUMENT IDEOLOGY TROPES Romantic Formist Anarchist Metaphor Tragic Mechanistic Radical Metonymy Comic Organicist Conservative Synecdoche Satirical Contextualist Liberal Irony

(Metahistory 29, 31) White believes that historians, during their acts of imaginative reconstructions, proceed through a number of steps or levels in order to create their historical texts.

White specifically cites five levels for the creative act of the historian although these levels are not necessarily completed in a specific order or accomplished one at a time. The five levels are (1) chronicle, (2) story, (3) mode of emplotment, (4) mode of argument, and (5) mode of ideological implication (Metahistory 5-6). It should be noted that White uses the term chronicle in a manner much different from its use elsewhere in this article. For White a chronicle is the barest and most primitive record of events, being simple and brief and not unlike some of the early records in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle or in the monastic annals. For White, then, the chronicle is the "unprocessed historical record" from which historians will create their interpretations. To do so, the historian proceeds to the next level, to delineate " a discernible beginning, middle, and end," which White refers to as the "transformation of chronicle into story. Such a beginning, middle, and end White also calls the inaugural motif,

transitional motif, and terminating motif. The sequencing and completion of these motifs can occur in a few brief lines; and, so, an historical text is full of numerous stories in the sense that White uses the word. Such stories, then, are brief episodes in the longer narrative of the historian. White's terminology can be refined by substituting more standard and appropriate literary terminology to delineate the structure of a story [that is, (1) exposition, (2) conflict, (3) climax, (4) resolution, and (5) denouement]. Although the above terms are usually applied to drama or other fiction, White himself notes that the difference between the historian and the writer of fiction is slight, the primary difference being that historians "find" their material; whereas writers of fiction "invent" their plots. The three middle terms (conflict, climax, and resolution) will also be useful in differentiating between the various types of transitional motifs.

The historian next proceeds to the other levels in order to combine the numerous brief stories into the "completed story" (Metahistory 7-8). In order to obtain the complete story, the historian employs White's four strategies (noted in the chart above).

3. Theoretical Considerations: The Poetic Chronicle

The literary critic and the historian alike can agree in principle with White’s basic assumption in his fourth strategy that historiographers do make use of the stylistic devices of fictional literature. Several of these devices medieval writers would use on a regular basis, and the student of medieval history should become acquainted with them in order to approach an understanding of medieval chronicles.

Perhaps the most important and often used stylistic device or approach to literature implemented by medieval writers is that of allegory. In the Middle Ages "allegory was an analytical exploration of an idea which made use of details dissected and abstracted from an image, with each detail having specific meaning" (Chenu 142). Medieval allegory was not necessarily a simple one-to-one correspondence. Rather, it could work on a multiplicity of levels, as it does in the apotheosis of all allegorical works, William Langland's Piers Plowman. In order to analyze the allegorical text, "the first essential is to pay proper attention to the literal level of the story"; for the personification of any particular attribute in medieval allegory must be analyzed through the dialogue and action and not in the mere description of it (Burrow 89-91). Allegory was a familiar device in Latin works prior to the fourteenth century, and religious writers often employed the device for moral purposes. And so, monastic authors who engaged in the practice of historiography thus had an allegorical tradition to draw upon and utilize within their own historical writing.

A stylistic device that would be as common to the medieval chronicler as that of allegory is exemplification. Exemplification occurs when the writer describes events or ideas in such a way as to exhibit some sort of universal truth; and a medieval chronicler might have employed such a device regularly because of the then common (but now unpopular) view that history was a "magistra vitae," a mistress who through examples instructed people how to behave properly and morally (Burrow 87, 108). Such a didactic purpose of history would thus instill the medieval chronicler with a strong sense of purpose and commitment that would

obviously affect both the content and the style of the text. Yet the critic of medieval historiography must consider the varying degrees of belief and fervor at that time in order to understand that the effect of such a view about history could be great, minimal, or nonexistent, depending on the personal convictions and the religious background of the individual historiographer.

Two other features often found in medieval chronicles are the semiotic and dialogic. With such frequent use of allegory and symbolism, the medieval chronicle becomes naturally adaptable to being analyzed through a semiotic means in which both characters and abstract qualities function as signs to transport the reader to a parallel structure, to a moral lesson, or to the allegorical level.

The fourteenth-century chronicle incorporates the semiotic, a system of signs and symbols, to link one portion or episode of a text with an earlier (and outwardly irrelevant) part. The use of the semiotic, however, does not only function within the development of character: it may also function within the level of abstract qualities outside of character. In the Polychronicon and other chronicles, the use of the Seven Deadly Sins, especially, becomes a major signifier that transports a reader from historical event to Scripture or from one character to another; yet the Sins may also serve as signs that transport the reader back to earlier episodes. Thus, they function to indicate a dialogic level of the text.

4. Theoretical Considerations: Medieval Historiographical Style

acknowledgement that such an approach is a modern and artificial construct that necessarily brings with it a number of limitations. To apply literary criteria to a medieval work, fiction or otherwise, is to subsume the belief in a universal understanding of literature that has no temporal boundaries. But by acknowledging the literary imagination or the historic imagination of any specific writer, one is thereby acknowledging a remarkableness or uniqueness in the writing that may and will transcend the types of generalizations inflicted upon it by the theory or methodology. The weakness of a theoretical method, whether it is Hayden White's or a variation upon it or some other method completely different from it, lies not within the individual method itself but within the entire practice of using any methodology. But methodologies do have value. In order to comprehend fully and truly the richness and complexity of any literary work, readers require the use of an effective methodology. However, one must realize that limitations and boundaries exist in regard to a person's understanding: historians cannot return to the time in which the text was written any more than they can penetrate into the subconscious layers of the mind of a specific author. Therefore, the historical critic requires a viable and practical method that is as comprehensive as possible and that permits an understanding, or at least a gleaning, into as many (but never all) of the contexts contained within an individual historiographical text.

With that qualification being stated, what follows is a methodology that begins with a premise that historiography bears similar relations to the writing of fiction. As such, it can be evaluated on various literary levels. However, it also differs from literature in some respects as well because of its superficially non-fictional content but more because of the

philosophical world view of the chronicler who examined life within a religious context of a Divine Plan.

Following Hayden White's methodology, the approach here will be to divide the features of medieval historiography into what rhetorician Ruth Morse calls "a familiar scheme of categories of style, method, and organization" (17). The historiographical style of the medieval chronicler is comprised of three categories of features: Organization, Method, and Ideological Implication. Each of these categories, in turn, consists of three distinct features. Organization consists of omission, presentation of facts in an annalistic style, and arrangement of events through emplotment. Method consists of allegory, microcosm, and macrocosm. And Ideological Implication consists of political embedding, religious interpretation, and moral or didactic interpretation. These features of the medieval historiographical style appear in the following table:

ORGANIZATION METHOD IDEOLOGY

Omission Allegory Political

Presentation of Facts Microcosm (Typology) Religious Arrangement of Events Macrocosm (Synechdoche) Moral/Didactic

These nine features contain a remarkable number of interconnections. They cannot be isolated or separated; and the function of one often relies on the function of one or more of the others. Thus, in the analysis of the following chronicle episode, no attempt will be made to isolate and analyze any one feature. Rather, all of these features must be considered in totality to uncover the methodology and agendas of the medieval chronicler.

One other point of consideration should be addressed in regards to this methodology. This point concerns the idea of historical accuracy or factualness. Medieval historiographers did not strive for historical accuracy. To find out at what points they deviate from the general historical assessment of those events, one must examine their accounts of the events with modern sources. However, many modern sources actually have used the chronicle in question as their own source or, worse yet, used secondary sources that in turn relied upon the said medieval chronicle. Thus, there exists some circularity in the method of examining chronicles in this manner. Nevertheless, there are several reasons why this method still proves useful and illuminating:

(1) Nearly all modern sources rely upon not only dozens of medieval chronicles to cross reference data in order to determine a relatively accurate picture of what occurred, but also upon a number of legal records, church records, biographies, charters, wills, and even archaeological artifacts (such as tombstones or place-name signs) to corroborate the details of the narrative that they then present. Of course, even in the best modern historical accounts, fictitious elements and inaccuracies appear. But the more sources that the modern historians use, the more likely will their accounts tend to be accurate (or as accurate as can be determined these many centuries later).

(2) The chronicles in the English vernacular have traditionally been ignored or regarded as adding little to the historical corpus as a whole, especially in comparison to their Latin counterparts. Historians usually consider the Brut (at least to the year 1333) to be merely a translation of the French text although one recent English historian at

least admits that the chronicle "has been unduly neglected by historians" (McKisack 549). Other English vernacular chronicles, such as the Polychronicon or Wyntoun's Orygynal Cronykil, have been similarly dismissed and ignored. In fact, nearly all Middle English chronicles, despite the fact that all of them contain details not found anywhere else, are often overlooked or ignored by modern historians. (3) In determining the extent and role of omission in the chronicle, what

mainly will be of concern here are those determined facts that are beyond question. A comparison is made to modern texts for the purpose mainly of ascertaining what obvious and significant events have been omitted by the chronicler. Chroniclers in both the Latin and English vernacular histories often disregard and omit crucial and significant events intentionally for thematic or ideological purposes. It will not be the point of this article to determine the accuracy of details that cannot be realistically determined.

Finally, (4) the analysis here is largely an analysis of literature, not of historical records. No attempt will be made to prove the historical accuracy of what happened during the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. Rather, the analysis is for the sake of determining what the chronicler is attempting to do and how he is attempting to do it.

* * * * *

In summary, the methodology to be used in this present article embodies the notion that the historiographical act is one of reconstruction. Historical events can never be duplicated, for the context in which they occurred can never be recaptured. Historiographers, then, can only assimilate such a context; and they accomplish this through a process

involving the historic imagination. The historic imagination, like the literary imagination, involves the use of structural and stylistic features in order to produce the final product, which, in the case of the historiographer, is the historical text or chronicle. Because historiographers utilize the same procedures as writers of fiction, their products also bear a number of similarities to fictional works of literature. And because of these similarities, the tools of the literary critic can be applied to the historical text.

Because White's methodology is specifically tailored to the texts of the nineteenth century, a number of alterations are necessary in order to apply a similar methodology to medieval historiography. This altered approach, nevertheless, will entail the same five steps or strategies that White himself uses: (1) an examination of the general or aesthetic qualities of the text; (2) an examination of the emplotment, which includes both plot structure and genre classification; (3) an examination of the organicist nature of the work, if applicable, as well as the moral and philosophical dimensions of the work; (4) an examination of the ideology inherent in the work, both political and religious; and (5) an examination of the stylistic or poetic qualities of the text, particularly exemplification or allegory, and the connection between those qualities and the ideology of the text. Through such an approach, an attempt will be made to uncover the various contexts, and hence the meaning, of the passage as it appears in the medieval chronicle.1

5. Historical Considerations

One of the most effective directions to take in an analysis of medieval

chronicles is to focus on those “stories” or episodes (1) that have an intense political impact upon the times and (2) that are fairly contemporary with the chronicler’s own life. By meeting both of these criteria, an analysis will far more likely reveal the ideological perspective of the chronicler, whose own emotional response will thus bring into sharper play his own use of historic imagination. Of course, inherent in a methodology, such as that by Hayden White or by the variation of White’s theory that is being used in this present analysis, comes the premise that nearly every sentence is a product of the historic imagination. Given the fact that medieval chroniclers “borrowed” material from their authoritative predecessors, their most original material and, hence, the greatest amplification of their imaginations occur when they write without previous sources about the events of their own times, especially when those events have a serious impact upon their own lives.

A prime example of such an event is the Peasants’ Revolt of 1381. This revolt was the first large-scale rebellion in England that affected nearly the entire populace although it was centered primarily in East Anglia and Kent. The underlying problem was an economic one. The Poll Tax of 1381 was the last outrage in a series of unjust economic reforms that served to undermine not only the economic status of the peasants but many of the more affluent classes as well. Most historians believe that the root cause of the crisis was the Statute of Laborers in 1351, which placed ceilings on salaries following the Black Death because of the labor shortages that then existed in England. In any event, the conflict between the aristocracy and the peasants reached its climax when the rebels stormed London on June 13, 14, and 15 of 1381. The events of

6. Reconstructing the Reconstructions

June 13-15 serve as an epitome of the entire revolt, and the actions that occurred on those three days received the greatest amount of attention by contemporary chroniclers of the fourteenth century and by later historiographers alike.

Before beginning an analysis of the details of the Brut chronicle, a brief chronology based on modern accounts (Keen 269-71, Kesteven 47-64, and Oman 55-79) will prove to be illuminating and useful.

One contemporary chronicle that particularly represents how medieval chroniclers would view and reconstruct political events to coalesce with their world picture, a picture that considered each event as a microcosmic act within the greater macrocosmic process, is the anonymous Brut. The Brut was originally written in Anglo-Norman French during the fourteenth century and originally ended its account with its entries for the year 1333. However, in that same century it was translated into Middle English; and a number of English chroniclers contributed continuations to it so that it grew in size and eventually became the most popular secular chronicle in England. It even surpassed the popularity of the Polychronicon and exists today with over 160 Middle English manuscripts, 50 Norman-French manuscripts, and 15 Latin manuscripts. When it was eventually set in printed form, it was retitled The Chronicles of England; and this chronicle became the major influence as to how Englishmen in the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries perceived their past (Matheson 210).

The purpose of including this account is not to establish the truth of what actually occurred in June of 1381. Rather, it is provided to illustrate what modern historians generally perceive to be an accurate depiction of the events at that time. As noted above, the advantage of the modern historian is that he or she can check a larger and greater variety of sources in addition to the early chronicles themselves. Thus, a number of facts can be obtained or verified -- at least to some extent beyond what the medieval chronicler could accomplish. Nevertheless, inaccuracies can and do occur in modern reconstructions, including the one provided here. Still, for the purpose of comparison, the following chronology will be helpful in establishing some intriguing points of departure made by the chronicler of the Brut.

The account begins just outside of the city of London with the prior John Ball addressing the rebels from Kent. Ball speaks vehemently to the crowd and incites them to riot. The appearance of King Richard II does little to calm the rebels, who have become an angry and unruly mob. The rebels from Kent enter the city via London Bridge. Meanwhile, a separate group of rebels enter through Aldgate. The sources note that traitors within the city allowed them easy access. King Richard II, who was then only 14 years Thursday,

June 13 Through an examination of the Brut continuation that covers the

Peasants’ Revolt of 1381, one may discover only limited and even erroneous information about the actual facts of that event. However, this brief description of the Revolt does reveal the personal approach and convictions of the chronicler and his integrative microcosmic-macrocosmic assessment of life and the events in it.

Friday, June 14

old, withdraws to the Tower for his own safety. The rebels continue with acts of destruction. One of their primary targets is John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; and, so, the rebels destroy the Duke's palace. The rebels' plan was never to steal, only to punish their enemies and destroy the belongings to those enemies. So, when one of the rebels steals a silver goblet from the Duke's palace, other rebels lynch him. Meanwhile, a separate group of rebels go to the legal building called the Temple and start a bonfire there, burning law books and official records. Other buildings vandalized during the melee include a hospital and a church. A prison is also opened up and prisoners are released. The rioting occurs well into the night, and the violence becomes more random. Housebreaking, arson, and even murder are part of the night's activities. That night King Richard II holds a council at the Tower. He agrees to meet the rebels at Mile End to discuss their grievances.

The King prepares a document pardoning the rebels and promising to hear their grievances. The document is read to the crowd at Mile End, but the crowd mocks the empty promises of the document. So, the King himself meets with the rebels from Essex at Mile End. The rebels essentially make three demands: (a) the abolition of serfdom, (b) freedom for tenants and limitations on rents, and (c) the heads of the three “traitors”: Chancellor Sudbury, Treasurer Hales, and John of Gaunt (although Gaunt was not in London

at the time). Richard II agrees to the first two of these demands, but he refuses to punish anyone without a trial. This seems to satisfy the rebels. So, the King commands his clerks to write charters on the first two demands, and the rebels from Essex begin to go home. Meanwhile, the rebels from Kent break into the Tower and capture and behead Sudbury, Hales, and others. As more rioting and killing occur throughout the city, Richard II returns from Mile End and takes refuge.

Saturday, June 15

The King summons the Kentish rebels to Smithfield, and later that morning Wat Tyler and a companion confer with the royal party at that location. Tyler presents four demands: (a) the abolition of serfdom, (b) limitations on rents, (c) no lordship except for the king’s, and (d) the return of church possessions or endowments. But for some unclear reason the conference turns into an argument. Tyler (who is possibly abusive and drunk, according to some sources) reaches for his knife. So, Walworth, the Mayor of London, believing that the king is in danger, kills Tyler. The astonished rebels become angry and prepare to attack. However, the King addresses the rebels and asks them to go to Clerkenwell Fields with him. They agree, and the King leads the rebels to the field. Meanwhile, Walworth goes back to the city to raise a military force. Walworth and the loyalist force returns an hour later, and the loyalist force

blocks the Kentish rebels. The King, though, prevents the potentially bloody conflict by allowing the rebels to depart under escort. So, the remaining rebels leave London; but Tyler’s head replaces Sudbury’s on a spike over London Bridge.

Interestingly, even the attitudes and judgments of the modern historian appear to be “inherited” from the medieval chroniclers whom they used for their sources. In the accounts by Keen and Kesteven, the romantic portrayal of the boy-king, Richard II, is conspicuously prominent. Obviously, the more sources that the modern historian uses, the more details he will have and the better assurance that through a collation of these sources his information will be accurate. Yet, even between the two longer accounts, Kesteven presents a much more dramatic and romantic portrayal of events than Oman does; for even modern historians must succumb, in lesser or greater degrees, to the creative appeals of the historic imagination.

Although the revolt was not over on June 15, Richard II had regained control over London; and the rebellion had lost its momentum. The actual end of the conflict occurred on June 25 when loyalist forces vanquished the last of the rebellious peasants in East Anglia.

One should note that a number of details do not agree among the three modern accounts used to establish the above chronology. All three historians used innuendo, rumor, and alternative “facts” in order to present more fascinating reconstructions. For example, Keen suggests that Sudbury and Hales were traitors to the King and country while the other two historians protest their innocence and assert that they were innocent scapegoats. Another point of contention concerns the killing of Wat Tyler. In the shortest account Keen relates that Tyler was stabbed because of his abusive and apparently drunken behavior. In the longer accounts Kesteven and Oman report that Tyler had apparently been angered by a heckler among the rebels; and demanding but not getting any satisfaction from the Mayor, Tyler drew out his knife. Drawing a weapon in the King’s presence was a serious offense. The Mayor was apparently wounded when he tried to stop Tyler. So, the wounded Mayor drew his sword and killed Tyler in revenge. These and other differences can be accounted for by the type and number of original sources to which each modern historian had access.

7. The Problem Concerning Original Medieval Source Material

In looking at a chronicler’s contemporary account of the rebels in London as it is presented in the Brut, the concern here will not be with the number of details presented but with the manner of presentation. The medieval chronicler did not have resource to the wide variety of documents now available to the modern historian. But the medieval chronicler’s advantage is that he knows, understands, and feels the political and social climate in which he is living. Thus, his perspective, biased though it certainly may be, provides a type of understanding in the various social and humanistic contexts of the time that the modern historian can only counterfeit; and such counterfeiting can never carry a sense of conviction or even of honesty. The longer modern versions by Kesteven and Oman may have the advantage of using a multiplicity of sources, but they also

suffer by having so many sources. In reconstructing the events from these earlier medieval reconstructions, the modern historians have also subconsciously suffered from using a number of diverse opinions or biases that do not coalesce smoothly or readily. Out of necessity, then, the historical critic must look at each primary source individually before proceeding to the step of comparison. Such a critic must isolate the personal and social contexts that make up the biases of the chronicler and then analyze those contexts so as not to commingle them with what may be the prevailing attitudes or even the realistic and historic truth of the event.

Harriet Marete Hansen has already analyzed in copious detail the problem of dealing with original medieval source material concerning the Peasants' Revolt of 1381. Hansen notes that a number of modern historical texts employ a "pick and choose" method (393-415) from a selection of mostly Latin, but in some cases French, medieval chronicles. In order to determine the validity of the events, Hansen employs a comparative approach of eight chronicles that modern historians frequently cite as sources for their reconstructions: (1) the Anonimalle Chronicle, (2) Thomas Walsingham's chronicle, (3) Henry Knighton's chronicle, (4) the Westminster Chronicle, (5) the Eulogium Historiarum, (6) the Vita Ricardi Secundi, (7) Jean Froissart's chronicle, and (8) the City of London Letter Book H. All of the first six are monastic chronicles, and the seventh is written in Anglo-Norman French. Of these chronicles modern historians consider the Anonimalle Chronicle to be the most authoritative. Hansen, however, reveals that such is not actually the case.2

To determine whether Hansen's assessment is completely accurate or not would require a further examination from other episodes of the

chronicles that would either corroborate or dismiss the connections that Hansen graphically depicts in a stemma (see endnote 2). This stemma positions the Eulogium as the oldest of the chronicles and the Anonimalle as the most recent. The accuracy of the stemma is not immediately relevant to this present analysis. What is relevant is that Hansen's stemma indicates the methodology of the medieval chronicler, who would often use as many sources as possible in order to establish authority for his own text. The reason why so many modern historians view the Anonimalle Chronicle as being the most authoritative and accurate is that it contains numerous details (possibly invented or) compiled, as Hansen would proffer, from five other sources: Froissart, Knighton, Walsingham, Westminster, and the London Letter Book. And these five sources contain information from each other or from other prior sources. Thus, Hansen's analysis is useful as a warning to the modern historian that what often appears to be the best or most authoritative source from times past may, in truth, be the least authoritative or the most contrived.

Hansen also reveals that the reason why modern historians have considered the Anonimalle Chronicle as a primary source extends back to the very early part of the twentieth century. Back then one notable historian of the time concluded that the accurate and detailed account in the Anonimalle Chronicle must surely have been written by an eyewitness. Hansen wisely comments that this early historian ignored the likelihood that such an account may have been written "by an author of great imagination," who had resource to several earlier texts (412). What Hansen is alluding to here is that the role of the historic imagination has been so extensive that many modern historical texts of today are quite

probably the products of such imaginative and creative reconstructions. In other words, the literary style, the impressive description, and the number of details have convinced many a modern historian that this account is the most accurate and superior one. But what many modern historians had not considered is that these details and full descriptions could have been the creative product of a vivid imagination. The greater length, then, was due to invention and not to the finding of additional facts.

The mistake made by that historian of the early twentieth century has been continually repeated over and over again in subsequent decades. Hansen quite accurately notes three specific reasons why modern historians continue to be impressed by the reconstruction of the Anonimalle Chronicle. (1) As stated above, the chronicler had made use of a variety of earlier chronicles and, Hansen adds, a number of official records that causes the legal aspects of the account, and hence the entire account itself, to sound creditable, verifiable, and realistic. (2) The chronicler focuses on King Richard II to such a large extent so as to create the impression that he, the chronicler, was a member of the court who, in that capacity, was able to attend meetings between the king and the rebels. And (3) the language of the chronicle provides an illusion of impartiality but is, in actuality, a carefully reconstructed balance between loyalism and anti-aristocratic sentiment (Hansen 413). The second two points are particularly pertinent to the role and force of the historic imagination. In regard to the second point, Hansen is referring to what the literary critic would call the narrative voice and point of view. The role of the narrator as confidant occurs over again in literary works, The Great Gatsby being a notable example, and provides a number of useful functions, including the

narrator's having access to key details yet simultaneously placing limits on the extent of his knowledge. Such a narrator, whether in fiction or in a chronicle, would then appear to have access to information that no other narrator or chronicler could obtain. In this manner the chronicler of the Anonimalle thus possesses the voice of a superior authority.

And in regard to the third point above, Hansen is referring to a mixture of ideologies that can only transpire when an historiographer, who is removed from the scene and has no direct or particular opinion of his own on that specific situation, relies upon a variety of sources that express a variety of political ideologies. Hansen hints at a possible discrepancy of a narrator who presumably assumes the role of a member of the court yet expresses anti-aristocratic ideas. The ideology of the narrator appears to be even more confused when he appears so reluctant to express any blame or negative judgment of any type against the rebels but so minutely and graphically describes the horrors that these rebels commit (Hansen 413). The obvious and simple explanation of such conflicting elements existing within a given chronicle is that this particular chronicler must have utilized differing sources, some of which were pro-loyalist and other of which were pro-rebel. The appearance of ideologies foreign to the chronicler himself has continued to occur from medieval times, and perhaps earlier, to the present time. An extreme modern example is the appearance of strong anti-Native American sentiments occurring in American history textbooks for high school students as late as the 1960s, and perhaps even in the 1970s. Such school texts were written when problems between Native Americans and whites were no longer existent. The prejudices against Native Americans were also hardly issues of the times. The most likely scenario

is that the historians who wrote these textbooks were unable to separate facts from ideology (and other aspects of the historic imagination) in their own process of writing a new reconstruction of historical events. Instead, they simply copied the bias from their sources.

8. The Episode of the Peasants' Revolt in the Brut: Emplotment, Characterization, Theme, and Genre

Keeping the supposed reliability of the Anonimalle Chronicle in mind, the reader of medieval history must approach the short and often inaccurate description of the Peasants' Revolt from the Brut continuation with some degree of caution. Yet, the fact that the Brut is so inaccurate may bespeak its timeliness rather than the opposite. If it had been written at a much later date, the chronicler would then have had access to a number of other documents and records to verify his data and correct his inaccuracies. But the inaccuracies and brevity together do suggest that this chronicle episode definitely was not written by an eyewitness and most probably was not written in the vicinity of London. However, it most likely was written sometime shortly after the event occurred but with enough time intervening so that the inaccuracies that usually accompany rumors and gossip could be filtered in with whatever facts to which the chronicler had access.

The entire length of the story of the Peasant’s Revolt, and not solely the rebels in London episode, is comprised of a mere sixty-nine lines, of which fifty-two are devoted to the action that occurred in London. The episode reads as a compact short story, with the first twelve lines forming an exposition and the last five lines serving as the denouement. The chronicler has abridged and collapsed together a number of events and has

devised an inaccurate chronology so as to preserve the narrative flow of the piece. The entire structure of the story could be described as simple and direct, and the focus of the story is clearly on the rebels, who are described as a misgoverned people.

The most striking error of the story is the substitution of Jack Straw’s name for that of Wat Tyler. Because of the inclusion of a number of other details that are more or less accurate, that such a major mistake could occur in this context is surprising. One can only conjecture whether such a mistake was intentional or not. Possibly, the chronicler had heard only that “the leader” had been killed in the described manner, and then he naturally inserted the name of Jack Straw for that role. There are five possible reasons why Straw’s name would be used over that of Wat Tyler’s: (1) Other chronicles often include a speech, a confession, allegedly spoken by Straw, that enumerates the intentions of the rebels (Kesteven 72, Oman 81), and this speech helped to establish Straw’s notoriety. (2) In all of his works, Chaucer, who was probably in London at the time of the insurrection, only mentions the revolt once and on that one occasion supplies the name of only one rebel, Jack Straw:

Certes, he Jakke Straw and his meynee Ne made nevere shoutes half so shrille Whan they wolden any Flemyng kille,

As thilke day was maad upon the fox. (Chaucer 260)

So Chaucer also helped to establish Straw’s notoriety. (3) Jack Straw took a largely physical and noticeable role in leading the rioters in the burning of both Clerkenwell Hospital and the manor house of the prior

of St. John (Oman 59, 70). (4) Walworth, the Mayor of London, did arrest Straw a day or two after Tyler’s own death and eventually beheaded him. And (5) the name of Jack Straw may have been confused as a nickname for Wat Tyler. This fifth supposition may be the most unlikely, however; for Jack Straw was probably the same person as one John Rackstraw, whose name appears prominently in the judicial records that cover the trials of the Revolt (Oman 44). Also quite possibly, the chronicler of the Brut continuation consciously and intentionally collapsed the roles of Tyler and Straw into one figure that would serve as a symbolic representation of the entire revolt and of all of the rebels. Since Straw’s name, for whatever reasons, had gained notoriety for his role in the revolt, his name would thence become the most obvious choice in this reductive narration.

Simon and Hales are beheaded. John of Guant’s palace is destroyed.

35-40 Destruction at the Temple.

Legal books are burned.

Prisoners are released from Newgate prison. More rioting.

---

Saturday/ 41 More rioting.

Sunday

--- Monday 42-54 Richard II and others go to Southwerk to confront the rebels. The Mayor slays Straw and sets his head over London Bridge.

55-56 Other rioters depart.

57-63 Richard II knights Walworth and others. The King

The fact that the plot is so collapsed and compressed may serve as corroboration for the intentional fusion of Straw and Tyler. Even the chronicler’s fictional chronology serves to heighten the dramatic impact:

returns to the Tower.

64 Richard II waits for the rioting to stop.

--- Tuesday 65-69 Various rebels captured and hanged.

Day Lines Action _{(and after)}

Pre-episode 1-5 The coming of the Poll Tax and the indignation

All of the acts of violence serve as rising action and mounting tension until the single point of climax brings about an end to the conflict. The story (or conflict) begins with some minor destruction and violence just outside of London with the releasing of the prisoners at Southwerk. Then the tension mounts as atrocity after atrocity is listed: the storming of the Tower of London, the beheading at Tower Hill, the destruction at the Savoy (John of Gaunt’s palace), the burning at St. John’s Clerkenwell, the violation of the sanctuary at St. Martin’s le Grand, the despoiling of the

Events of the people.

6-8 The rising of the rebels.

9-12 Straw (mentioned first) and Tyler elected as leaders.

--- Thursday 13-18 Mischief outside of London.

(Corpus The rebels come to London.

Christi Day) Riots begin.

--- Friday 19-34 The rebels come to the Tower of London.

Temple, and the releasing of the prisoners at Newgate. After the listing of horrors, the narrator is ready to present his climax.

The chronicler, however, displays a highly inaccurate knowledge of the geography of London city proper. If a single band of rebels, as the Brut describes, did undertake to commit all of the atrocities listed above in the order that the chronicler presents, they would be traversing back and forth between points of London that are on opposite sides of the city (see London city map, Appendix B). It is highly unlikely that one single band of rebels would run to one locale and cause acts of violence there, run completely across the city to commit additional acts of violence, and then run back to a place near the first locale to commit a third act of violence. Of course, as noted earlier, two different organized bands of rebels (as well as isolated groups of various disgruntled artisans and other citizens of London city itself ) were responsible for the events or actions that actually occurred during the course of those three days. Also, the order of events as described in the Brut continuation is not accurate. The chronicler, however, did not devise his order haphazardly. Rather, as part of his historic-imaginative process, the chronicler manufactured a reconstruction that would better present his own thematic purposes.

The pace of the action picks up quickly with the generalized and telescoped comment that the rioting and destruction continued in a similar vein that Saturday and Sunday (line 41). Even the events preceding that Saturday and Sunday are listed as a continuous stream of violence, with the simple conjunction-adverb combination of “and then” or some variation upon it (lines 19, 26, 29-30, 35, and 42) being used to link the darkening tide of events. The chronicler does not mention the arrival of Richard II

and Mayor Walworth and the others of the royal party until late in the story (line 43) and late in the chronology (the Monday following four or more days of mayhem). This gives the impression that the unbridled and destructive force of the rioters was given free rein and was impossible to deter up until that time.

The arrival of Richard II and his forces serves as the climax. They are a single force of good to prevent the negative forces from doing any more additional harm; and this climax is symbolized in the action of a single individual, the Mayor of London, who extinguishes the life of the symbolic figure of the Revolt, Jack Straw. The conflict of physical destruction is now over, and the rebels (the source of the conflict) are subdued.

In a single sentence the narrator recounts how the conflict is suddenly, almost miraculously, at an end:

And anon alle And vanysched, as hit hadde not byn

This sentence and the lines noting the King’s adjournment to the Tower (63-65) function as the resolution of the drama. However, these last few lines, which suggest that the King’s adjourns for the purpose of waiting for the recalcitrant citizens of London to become tranquil, break the thematic continuity of the story. Prior to this point, the chronicler presented the rebels from Kent and Essex as a single body of men who were solely responsible for all of the problems that occurred in London. With the dispersal of the rebels noted earlier (line 56), the chronicler may inadvertently be suggesting (in line 64) that some of the citizenry of

London city were also involved in the unrest. Such, however, was not part of the chronicler’s thematic intent or ideological understanding.

The elements that function as the denouement (that is, the final explanation of the event or the result of the Revolt) do, however, quite appropriately serve the thematic intentions of the chronicler: good is rewarded and evil is punished. And these two thematic elements are balanced rather cleverly. The rewarding of good takes the form of Richard II knighting William Walworth, the Mayor of London, together with five other “worthy men of the city” who in some unmentioned manner distinguished themselves during the revolt in London (lines 58-62). Just as the chronicler had left out information regarding the additional bands of rebels throughout London, here too he has left out the fact that the action must have been much more complicated than that which his reductive narrative presents. The services to the King by the five other new lords are neither alluded to nor explained. Instead, all of their actions become united and symbolized in the single action by Walworth.

The second part of the denouement concerns the punishment of evil (lines 65-69). This part balances the first and comes in the form of an explanation as to what happened to those insurgents involved in the rebellion: the rebels, in large numbers, are captured and hanged throughout the realm of England. Because the chronicler focused on the rebels as the anti-heroic protagonists throughout the story, he suitably maintains his narrative frame by ending the story with an explanation as to what happened to his protagonists. Hence, the narration remains firmly organized and straightforward throughout all sixty-nine lines of the story.

The genre of this story could be described as a tragedy of minor

dimensions, or it might even possibly be construed as a fable or parable. The chronicler presents the main character of the piece, Jack Straw, as a tragic figure who suffers from not one but three fatal flaws (hamartia): covetousness, falseness, and presumption (lines 50-51). But, quite obviously, Straw does not meet all of the requirements of the tragic hero, such as having courage or dignity; nor does the story itself meet the demands of tragedy, such as focusing on the fate of an individual of high degree. Admittedly, Straw is not the protagonist of this story. Rather, Straw is used as a symbol for all of the rebels. His three faults thus represent the faults of all of the rebels. Through exposing the faults of Straw and the other rebels, the chronicler is then able to proceed in presenting a moral lesson regarding the negative behavior of these men. And because of its moralistic tenor, the story does approach the dimensions of a fable or parable much more closely. Like both the fable and the parable, this episode points out a number of human follies and a moral lesson to be learned. And as a true parable, it becomes allegorical in nature. The lesson to be learned, the moral to be discovered, regards not only the breaking of the laws of the land, but the breaking of the laws of God as well. In essence, the lesson promotes preserving the class system, bowing down to higher authority, and remaining content with one’s lower station in life.

9. The Episode as Allegory and Microcosm

The entire lesson of this story is presented within the microcosmic dimensions typically used in medieval literature. The chronicle depicts the rebels in London as a single group that actually represents (1) the

several groups of rebels who were actually in London at that time as well as (2) all those other peasants and insurgents involved in the revolt outside of London. More importantly, even though the chronicler does not explicitly state this, the rebels would microcosmically represent (3) all manner of rebels everywhere and at every time, especially (4) those proud angels who first rebelled against the supreme authority of God and who were cast down into hell for their actions. Although this relationship is not explicitly expressed, the language of the chronicler and the imagery he utilizes both replicate the magnitude and gravity of the confrontation between God and Lucifer. The chronicler’s expository remarks note that the rebels’ actions directly caused “great mischief and much trouble to all of the community of the realm” (lines 5-6), not unlike the arrival of sin to disrupt the blessed state of man’s paradise. Further, the narrator describes the rebels themselves as beings full of “malice and wickedness” (line 42), as if they were actually devils. The story of Lucifer's revolt in Heaven was one of great familiarity to the medieval townsfolk. In fact, the story even appears in fairly significant detail in the Old English version of Genesis. Such a story became a popular topic for sermons in the Catholic Church. In addition, the story was often dramatized in the medieval mystery plays during the 14th and 15th centuries. For a monastic chronicler, the story of Satan's rebellion was the macrocosm for all earthly rebellions, especially for a rebellion of the magnitude of the Peasants' Revolt of 1381.

To extend the allegorical interpretation, the leader of the rebels, Jack Straw, would then represent the cardinal fiend, Lucifer himself, leading his followers to their own destruction. The chronicler even describes Jack

Straw’s calling forth the assembly of rioters (lines 47-48) in a manner not unlike Lucifer calling his minions to his side to prepare for the battle against God. Straw speaks in a “clamor” and a “cry,” a loud and furious noise that will only signify his own doom. And the reader should pay particular attention to the chronicler’s expression of “his will” (line 49). The Revolt on earth represents the great confrontation of the Divine Will against the lesser and fallible desire of the chief adversary. The faults of this Lucifer-figure, Jack Straw, also suitably conform with the allegory. The chronicler introduces Covetousness and Falseness and Presumption (lines 50-51) almost as if they are the allegorical attendants to Straw. These three terms are particularly suitable for describing the character of the devil. The term presumption is especially appropriate. In the early Middle Ages, pride could be both a positive and negative characteristic. The Anglo-Saxons found the pride of Beowulf and the boasting of his accomplishments as acceptable and even laudatory characteristics. But the overextending type of pride that is attributed to Lucifer and that is described in the Old English Genesis with the word ofermod (Genesis 10) is most accurately translated with the Middle and Modern English term presumption. Such a characteristic was, indeed, the major factor, the fatal flaw, causing Lucifer’s downfall. And, so, Straw becomes the impetus, the driving force, that leads all of the others to their downfall; for his followers are described as “misgoverned men” (line 55), thus implying a group of people led astray by their leader. And, so, the chronicler depicts Straw’s downfall as a necessary allegorical counterpart to the downfall of Lucifer.

introduction of another allegorical figure, the Mayor of London, William Walworth, assuming the role of the archangel Michael, who struck down the figure of the arch-nemesis Lucifer. In the chronicler’s drama Walworth is, in fact, given a predominant role over the figure of Richard II. In other versions, as previously mentioned, the King has a far more considerable role as a heroic or romantic figure. The narrator of the Brut, however, wanted the action, the conflict, and the resolution compactly placed as the central part of his drama; so he found it necessary in his reduction to minimize the role of Richard II.

Yet, even the persona of Richard II aptly fits into the allegory, for just as Richard is king by Divine Right in the reality of the medieval world view, he becomes the only figure who can assume the identity of God in this allegorical reconstruction of history. The image of God bestowing his beneficence on his victorious angels the chronicler then translates to the knighting of the six worthy men of the city of London. The chronicler ends his allegory with the punishment of the rebels (by means of hanging), representing the punishment that the newly-formed devils receive in hell.

The chronicler of the Brut continuation, in an allegorical manner, utilizes what medieval scholars would call the Mechanical branch of philosophy (Minnis 25) to underscore his thematic purpose. That is, the chronicler displays the follies and foibles of human behavior in order to develop and portray his philosophical view and his thematic intentions. This particular Brut chronicler is a firm conservative in word and thought. He is a man whose loyalty to the king is confirmed because of his ideological and theological convictions that the king rules the land through the divine power of God and that any indignation toward that king is an

indignation toward God worthy of the most severe of punishments. This is the lesson that the Peasants’ Revolt episode reveals.

10. Religious Imagery and Exemplification

In order to present that lesson dexterously, the chronicler employed the stylistic approaches of both allegory and exemplification; for the story operates artfully not only on the allegorical level described above but also functions effectively on a more realistic yet universal level as well. The story stands as a commentary as to what should happen and will happen, in this chronicler’s view, to anyone who antagonizes God or God’s representatives on earth. The language of the piece, with its deliberate emphasis on religious names and religious imagery, enhances and heightens the example or lesson that the chronicler is demonstrating. The chronicler begins, fictitiously, with the rioting of Straw and the others occurring on Corpus Christi Day (line 13), which thus initially marks the rebels as men who have embarked in an act of sacrilege. As they proceed to engage in one act of destruction after another, the chronicler clearly depicts each move as a further act of sacrilege. The chronicler describes Simon Sudbury not in his role as Chancellor but in his other position as Archbishop of Canterbury (line 21). Likewise, he describes Robert Hales not in his role as Treasurer but in his other position as the Prior of St. John’s (line 22). Several other figures were beheaded at the same time, but the chronicler mentions only one: the white friar who was the confessor for Richard II. And, so, this triple act of sacrilege, these murders of three of God’s representatives, the chronicler depicts as all the more horrible because of the unique role of the friar, who has a special relationship to one

of the most special of God’s representatives, the King.

Connected to this religious imagery is an intriguing although obvious use of color imagery. The chronicler notes that the friar is a white friar while the rebels are specifically described for forming their assembly at Blackheath. So, the readily apparent symbolism of white and black indicating good and evil contributes to the theme of sacrilege that is being committed by the devilish black hordes.

The chronicler continues to describe each act of violence and rioting within a religious context. Not only are the rebels responsible for destructive acts at St. John’s and St. Martin’s le Grand (lines 30, 32); but they also destroy the Savoy, John of Gaunt’s palace, which receives the benefit of being religious by its proximity to St. Mary le Grand (line 27). The chronicler additionally places greater emphasis on the violent sacrilege that occurs at St. Martin’s le Grand, for he notes how the rebels force out all those who were in the religious sanctuary for the purpose of asylum. In other words, the rebels are forcing out of God’s house those who are under the protection of God.

After committing their several atrocities against God, the rebels then proceed to commit similar atrocities against Man, or, more specifically, the legal and social institutions set up by man. They first destroy the Temple, the legal institution, and then release the prisoners from Newgate, the penal institution (lines 35-38). The chronicler thus presents a two-part structure for his conflict: (1) acts against God and (2) acts against Man. The former is, for this chronicler, most obviously, the more serious of the two. In this manner the chronicler indicates that the rebels exude wickedness in several ways, and so the path is paved for their downfall in the climax and

for their destruction in the denouement.

One final point, another inaccuracy made by the chronicler, still needs to be discussed. As already mentioned, the King addressed the rebels on two separate occasions: (1) with the rebels from Essex at Mile End on Friday, June 14, and (2) with the rebels from Kent at Smithfield on Saturday, June 15. Not only does the Brut chronicler compress the two meetings into one and sets that one on the wrong day (Monday); but he also incorrectly establishes the setting, for he places the King’s meeting at Southwerk (line 45). Again, however, such an inaccuracy may also have been an intentional act on the part of the chronicler. In his process of compression and reduction, the chronicler may have also been employing the Aristotelian dramatic unity of place. The first location that the rebels come to on that fateful Corpus Christi Day is Southwerk (line 13); and it is only fitting, both judiciously and thematically, that they end their acts of violence there and receive their final retribution there as well.

What appears to be in the Brut continuation an episode that is poorly researched and haphazardly assembled is in actuality an act of the historic imagination. It is a complex and intricately woven allegorical interpretation of an event that serves as a text of exemplification, a warning against those who may desire to cause a disturbance against either God or country.

11. Concluding Remarks

Of course, not all medieval English vernacular chronicles are so ingeniously developed. For comparison, one may look at John Capgrave’s, which was written in the middle of the fifteenth century. Capgrave devotes one long paragraph to the Revolt and apparently has

very little interest in it. The emotional feelings for the event have passed with the passing of time. But because Capgrave had access to a variety of sources, he was able to correct many of the inaccuracies (intentional or not) found in the Brut continuation. However, Capgrave focuses primarily on the facts, and not even all of his facts are handled correctly.3

Notes

1

The theoretical assumptions and model used for this study are primarily derived from Hayden White and his influential Metahistory. However, acknowledgements also must be made to Michel Foucault and Dominick LaCapra. Foucault's comments in The Order of Things (orginally Les Mots et les Choses) essentially led to the development of the concept of the historic imagination. Foucault questioned not only the validity of historiography, but he also explored and analyzed the organizing models of human perception and knowledge that underlie the writing of history. Foucault attempted to develop a theory of knowledge that would acknowledge the problems in historiographical methodology. Dominick LaCapra, working off of post-modernist thinkers such as Jacques Derrida, also promotes the view of literary qualities in historical texts and examines the multiplicity of meanings of such texts in his own writing, especially in Rethinking Intellectual History. A thorough study of these influences can only be suggested at present. However, I would like to refer readers to the first chapter of my own earlier study, Middle English Historiography. Therein I examine the contributions made by Foucault and LaCapra and the relevance and advantages of White's methodology. Moreover, my own critical methodology is also described in far greater detail.

A far superior and longer example of the Peasants’ Revolt episode occurs in the Polychronicon continuation. The chronicler of this work not only corrects many of the mistakes found in other chronicles; but he strives exceedingly to present a realistic account with a fair and just explanation of the reasons for the cause of the revolt. Yet, the chronicler also uses both a religious and somewhat allegorical approach as well.

The importance of the Peasants’ Revolt episode in the Brut continuation, however, should not be ignored; for the episode reveals to modern readers the extent that medieval chroniclers would use allegory. That, in turn, reveals one perspective of the medieval mind, the type of mind that would relegate in its historiography the acts of mankind as a microcosmic rendering of the Divine Power, the Divine Justice, and the Divine Retribution that is God.

2

Harriet Merete Hansen describes a number of remarkable similarities, including similarities in dialogue, among the eight accounts that indicate that not all of these accounts could have been written independently. In the first step of her approach, Hansen examines closely the specific details of the Smithfield meeting on June 15. On the basis of

this examination, Hansen next proceeds to create a stemma, which indicates the complex relationship among the chronicles. Hansen's third step involves an analysis of the details of the June 14 meeting at Mile End and of the executions of Chancellor Sudbury and Treasurer Hales in order to verify the accuracy of her stemma. Because the Anonimalle Chronicle has played such an important role in the reconstructions by modern historians, Hansen is particularly careful in her analysis of the details in this work.

Hansen continues to examine other details, like those noted above, in order to determine the other complex relationships that exist among the eight chronicles. Below is the stemma that Hansen has created to indicate her theory regarding the involved relationships:

One of the specific details that Hansen examines is the role of the mayor and his proximity to the king during the Smithfield meeting. Two versions exist. In the first version, the mayor leaves his position by the side of King Richard II at what is described as a dangerous moment. This detail appears in the Westminster Chronicle, the Anonimalle Chronicle, and Walsingham's Chronicle. But the Eulogium, as well as the chronicles by Froissart and Knighton, describes the mayor as remaining at the king's side. The most detailed account of the meeting at Smithfield, according to Hansen, occurs in the London Letter Book, which depicts the mayor's role as heroic. The unarmed mayor kills the rebel leader Wat Tyler with his own hands and then rushes to London to gather the loyalist troops. Hansen looks at an additional source, a sheriff's report dated November 20, 1382, which indicates that the mayor had actually stayed by the king's side. Hansen concludes that an unknown chronicler had invented the heroic acts of the mayor and that the chronicler of the Eulogium, and perhaps also the chronicler of the London Letter Book, had access to this earlier but unknown chronicle. She also concludes, then, that the Eulogium must have been composed after November 20, 1382.

Thus, Hansen explains a detail, such as that of the mayor leaving the side of Richard II as it is described in the chronicles of Westminster, Anonimalle, and Walsingham, by the supposition that all three of these chronicle used the London Letter Book as a source. That chronicle, most likely, included the fictitious scene that enhances the role of the mayor in order to portray the officials of London in a positive manner. The only problem with Hansen's analysis is not its complexity, since chroniclers did use a number of sources for the production of their own texts, but that the analysis calls for the belief in an unknown and now lost source that is the