This palpably unjust taxation of the poor was intolerable to FitzOsbert.
Fifteen thousand men banded themselves together in London under an oath that they would stand by each other and by their leader; and FitzOsbert, after a vain journey to Normandy to arouse Richard's attention to the wrongs of his subjects, bade open defiance to the justiciar and his tax-gatherers.
For a time the Archbishop's men were powerless, but weakness crept in amongst the citizens, and the aldermen were naturally on the side of constituted authority.

FitzOsbert's success meant a readjustment of taxation quite unpalatable to the City Fathers.
In the end FitzOsbert was deserted by all but a handful of his followers and fled with them for sanctuary to the church of St.Mary-le-Bow in Cheapside.

Pursued by the officers of the law, FitzOsbert climbed up into the tower of the church, and to fetch him down orders were given to set the church on fire.

This was done, and the only chance of life that now remained for the rebels was to get out of the church and cut their way through the ranks of their enemies.
At the church door FitzOsbert was struck down, and his little company quickly overpowered.
Heavily chained, and badly wounded, FitzOsbert was carried off to the Tower, to be tried and sentenced to a traitor's death without delay.
A few days later--it was just before Easter--FitzOsbert was stripped naked, and dragged at the tail of a horse over the rough streets of London to Tyburn.

He was dead before the place of execution was reached, but the body, broken and mangled, was hung up in chains under the gallows elm all the same; and nine of his companions were hanged with him.
The very people who had fallen away from their leader in the day of his need now counted FitzOsbert for a saint, and pieces of his gibbet and of the bloodstained earth underneath the tree were carried away and treasured as sacred relics.