"We must get another tarpaulin or two if the ship is ever to be brought into order," observed Benbow; "these young gentlemen from the sh.o.r.e are very well in their way, but they are more ornamental than useful."

As soon as Roger had parted from the Captain, on going round the ship he encountered old Sam Stokes.

"Glad to see you aboard our new ship, Mr Willoughby, though somewhat bigger than our old craft, but doubt whether she has as fast a pair of heels; however, if there comes a war we shall do something in her, no doubt about that, with such a Captain as ours."

Jumbo, on hearing that Roger had come on board, hurried up, and Roger had a talk with him of old times, and then went round among his old shipmates and spoke to each individually, thus winning their kindly feelings. He often wished that Stephen had been with him instead of having joined the hazardous enterprise in which he had engaged. He wrote twice to his friend. Not knowing where he might be, he addressed the letters to Langton Park, but he received no replies.

At length the ship was ready for sea, and, dropping down the Thames, stood out in the channel for a cruise.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

We must now return to Lyme. The cordial reception Stephen Battis...o...b.. met with from the Duke made him more than ever devoted to his cause.

Having a good horse, he at once volunteered to ride out and collect horses with men accustomed to riding, who might be willing to join and form the nucleus of a cavalry force. The news of the Duke's landing rapidly spread far and wide. Other friends of the cause galloped off in all directions, running no little risk of being captured by the militia, who had been called out by several loyal n.o.blemen and gentlemen on information being received that the rebellion had commenced. The Duke was indefatigable in his exertions. Rising at an early hour on the morning after his arrival, he was ready to receive the volunteers, who flocked in by hundreds from all directions. When he had caused their names to be taken down, he sent them by a messenger with a list to the Town-Hall, where the arms were stored, and persons ready to give them out. The volunteers were immediately armed and sent to the officers at different posts which had been established round the town, where they, without loss of time, were drilled and exercised. All day long, as well as the following night, people came crowding in, and the next day, which was Sat.u.r.day the 13th, they appeared in such prodigious numbers that it was no easy matter to take down their names and to supply them with arms. Thus at the close of the day the Duke's army already amounted to a thousand foot and one hundred and fifty horse, which were every hour augmenting. Whatever the Duke and the gentlemen who accompanied him, Lord Grey, Fletcher of Salton, and others, might have thought of this force, their increasing number greatly raised the enthusiasm of his followers. They felt themselves ready to undertake any adventure which might be proposed. Stephen Battis...o...b.. had met his brothers coming to join the camp. Together they proceeded to the houses of such friends and acquaintances as they knew were friendly to the cause. Some allowed their servants and dependants to join, and others sent horses, although they themselves thought it prudent not to appear in arms on the Duke's side. So energetically did Stephen execute his commission that in a few hours he returned with twenty mounted men and several spare horses. The Duke, immediately on his appearance, appointed him lieutenant of the troop, observing that he expected before long to be able to give him the rank of captain.

"We shall probably before long meet the enemy, if they do not rather run away when they see us. Notice has just been brought in that the Duke of Albemarle is approaching with a strong body of militia, and intends to attack this night; but I intend to forestall him, and we are about to march out to form an ambush, so that we may set upon him suddenly should he approach."

This news created considerable excitement among the young recruits, who were eager to strike a blow for the cause they had espoused. As evening approached the force marched out in silence, orders having been given that there should be no shouting, lest they should betray their whereabouts. The force amounted to eight hundred foot and one hundred and fifty horse, and with it three pieces of cannon. They took up their position at a cross road behind hedges, and in the narrow way behind which it was supposed that the Duke of Albemarle would come, the foot lying in the field with their arms in rank and file, the hors.e.m.e.n holding their bridles in their hands. Every moment they expected to be up and doing, but the night drew on and no enemy appeared. At length day dawned; the men rose to their feet. They had taken their first lesson in campaigning, and felt the better prepared for meeting the enemy. Stephen Battis...o...b.. had had more experience than most of his companions during his adventures in Africa, so that the sort of work was not quite so new to him as it was to many others. As he surveyed the rapidly increasing army, he observed that though many of the recruits had no fire-arms, and were compelled to content themselves with scythes lashed to the end of stout poles, still these would prove formidable weapons in the hands of stout men. He rode back at the head of his little troop to join his brothers and other young gentlemen, some acting as officers, some as privates, at breakfast, not in those days a meal of toast, eggs, b.u.t.ter, and tea, but of beef, bread, and beer. They were still seated at table when the trampling of horses outside announced the arrival of another party. On running to the window they saw a grey-haired personage of no very aristocratic appearance, though mounted on a fine steed, at the head of about forty hors.e.m.e.n; but he was old Mr Dare, paymaster to the forces. He was one of the two persons who had landed at Seaton on the morning of the 11th, and had gone inland at no little risk to apprise Mr Speke of the Duke's arrival. He was a bold man with much intelligence, and was one of the moving spirits of the rebellion. As he arrived before the George Inn the Duke went out to meet him, and welcomed him cordially. The levies came in faster than ever, and it was as much as the Battis...o...b..s, and other young gentlemen who could write, could do to take down their names and send them off to the regiments now forming, called after various colours, as was the custom in those days. Stephen's zeal was remarked by Fletcher of Salton, the princ.i.p.al officer of military experience who had joined the Duke, a man of great talents, but possessed of a hasty and irritable temper. "I see who will be among our future colonels," he observed, as he rode by, mounted on a somewhat sorry hack, to dine with the Duke of Monmouth. Thus encouraged, Stephen continued his labours. His disappointment was very great when he found that the arms and ammunition were already running short, and that no weapons were to be procured to put into the hands of the eager recruits. Numbers had to return home, fortunately for themselves, who would gladly have fought for the cause.

In the afternoon information was received that a strong body of Dorset militia had occupied Bridport, and that another regiment, under Sir William Portman, was expected to disperse these forces. In the hopes that a large number would come over to him with their arms, the Duke determined on sending an expedition against the town. It was intended that Fletcher and Lord Grey should command the horse. The former, after dining with the Duke, sallied out to make the necessary preparations.

Finding a handsome horse in the stables, he at once appropriated it without sending to ask leave of the owner, who proved to be Mr Dare, the paymaster. Stephen was getting his little troop in readiness, as he expected to be sent on the expedition, when Fletcher rode into the market square mounted on Mr Dare's horse. The owner, without considering Fletcher's military rank and social position, came up to him, and in an insulting manner inquired how Mr Fletcher ventured to take a horse belonging to him without first asking his leave.

"The exigencies of the moment require it, my friend," answered Fletcher; "and as I am to command the cavalry, it is important that I should have a horse capable of performing whatever work I may demand of him. I therefore considered myself justified in taking the first horse suitable for my purpose, irrespective to whom he belongs."

"But I am not thus to be ridden over by a Scotch Laird," exclaimed Dare in an insulting tone; "the horse is mine."

"It may be," said Fletcher, "but you are not about to act as a cavalry officer, and I am. Therefore, for the good of the service, I consider myself justified in retaining the horse."

"Retain it you shall not," cried Dare, flourishing a cane which he held in his hand. "Whether you are a cavalry officer or not, I will make you dismount from that horse," and he advanced with a threatening gesture towards the high-spirited Scotchman. A fatal moment. Fletcher drew a pistol and ordered Dare to stand back. Dare still advanced, when, to the horror of all the bystanders, the pistol exploded, and Dare fell mortally wounded to the ground. Stephen and others ran to lift up the fallen man, but life had fled. Fletcher was instantly seized with remorse at the fatal act he had committed, when he saw Dare was no more.

Numbers gathered from all parts, and among them came the son of the slain man, accompanied by a number of the new levies, who demanded punishment of the a.s.sa.s.sin. The Duke of Monmouth, hurrying up, in vain endeavoured to allay their anger. They threatened that if Fletcher was not arrested, they would take the law into their own hands and tear him to pieces. The poor Duke was almost distracted by this unfortunate event. In Dare he had lost a devoted partisan, while Fletcher was the only man besides himself in his whole army who had seen service, who, by his talents, was capable of acting as a General. As the only way to save him, he told him to consider himself under arrest and, turning to Stephen, directed him to convey Mr Fletcher on board his frigate, which still lay in the outer roads.

"I regret the duty I am called on to perform, Mr Fletcher," said Stephen; "you must at once accompany me to the harbour."

"I am under your command," answered Mr Fletcher.

Upon which Stephen surrounded him with a party of his own men, who with difficulty kept off the followers of Mr Dare, who were thirsting for his blood. They however reached the quay in safety, when Stephen, with his prisoner and four of his men, embarked on board one of the frigate's boats, which had just come to the sh.o.r.e. There was still a risk of their being pursued, so Stephen ordered the boat to pull off immediately for the frigate.

"I hope, sir, when it is known what provocation Mr Dare gave you, that the anger of the people will be appeased, and that you will be able to return and take command of the army."

"Though disappointed with the cla.s.s of persons who have flocked to the Duke's standard, I will still gladly risk all for the sake of the n.o.ble cause in which he has embarked," said Fletcher, "and I may hope that in a few days the tide will turn in my favour, though I confess with the deepest regret the result of my hasty temper."

"Can I, in the meantime, be of any use to you on sh.o.r.e?" asked Stephen.

"Thank you, sir," answered Fletcher. "I shall be obliged to you if you will bring my valise and papers which I left at the George; and as I may not have an opportunity of seeing the Duke for some time, I beg that you will express to him how deeply I regret what has taken place."

Mr Fletcher was silent for the greater part of the way, and Stephen, having seen his prisoner on board, returned with his men to the sh.o.r.e.

On landing he was met by frowning looks from many of those who had accompanied Mr Dare. Stephen at once made his way back to report what he had done to the Duke, who replied, "I must send you back once more with orders to the master of the ship to sail immediately, and to proceed along the coast to Bristol. I have given directions to have a mariner, one John Kerridge, impressed, as he is a skilful pilot, and will be able to conduct the ship to Bristol. You will engage a boat from the sh.o.r.e, and put him with Mr Fletcher on board."

With these directions Stephen returned to the quay, where he found John Kerridge, who seemed in no wise desirous of performing the duty imposed upon him. However, being in the hands of armed men, he could not help himself, and was placed with a guard in the boat, in which Stephen conveyed him on board the frigate. Whenever Stephen had left her side, he saw her crew making preparations for getting under weigh. Her anchor was hove up, her sails set, and the wind being off sh.o.r.e, she at once stood out to sea.

"She seems to me to be standing more to the southward than her due course for the Start," he said to one of the boatmen.

"May be the Captain does not know how the wind will come, which is to give the Start a wide berth," was the answer.

As far, however, as Stephen could watch, he observed that she held a south-westerly course. On his arrival on sh.o.r.e he found that notwithstanding the untoward event of the afternoon, the expedition to Bridport was still to be carried out. He found a party of three hundred men under Colonel Wade, with a hundred men under Captain Goodenough, while the cavalry was commanded by Lord Grey, who had charge of the whole expedition. They were to march all night in great secrecy, hoping to fall on the militia early in the morning. They waited till sunset, when, all being prepared, they marched out of Lyme, the infantry leading, the cavalry bringing up the rear. The men were ordered to keep silence, and to make as little noise in any way as possible. It was no easy matter to induce raw recruits, however, to do this. Stephen of course, knew every inch of the way. They were still some three or four miles from Bridport, when the advanced guard met two men coming from the direction of the town. Instead of running away they advanced boldly, declared that they had escaped from the town, and that their wish was to join the Duke of Monmouth.

"You have found them sooner than you expected," said Lieutenant Mitch.e.l.l, the officer commanding the vanguard.

The men willingly agreed to return with the party, although they said that there were no less than one thousand two hundred foot, and a hundred horse already holding the town. Still, as they had come thus far and were positively ordered to attack, the leaders were unwilling to go back without attempting something, although they were far outnumbered. A thick fog came on towards morning, which completely concealed their approach towards the end of the town, which consists of one long broad street with a stone bridge at either end, and a cross street running north and south. The bridge was quickly won, the outposts retiring with expedition to the main guard, who speedily retreated, standing only to receive one volley from Monmouth's vanguard.

The king's horse, with a small body of infantry, alone occupied the town, and as the troopers ran away, they let their horses go, which were at once captured by the successful a.s.sailants. Colonel Venner now led on his men to attack the eastern bridge, leaving parties of musketeers and pikes to command the entrances to the other streets, and fighting took place in front of the inn, when two of the king's officers and others lost their lives, and several prisoners were made by Monmouth's men. Colonel Venner, however, was wounded. When Lord Grey was advancing on the bridge, the loyal militia fired a heavy volley, which induced him and his troop to turn their horses' heads and gallop off.

On Colonel Venner being wounded, Colonel Wade took command, and led to the western part of the town, where for half-an-hour his men and those of the king's forces were shouting to each other. He then, finding that the rest of the force had retreated, considered it his duty to retire, which he did in pretty good order, with thirty horses and about fourteen prisoners. The whole transaction must have shown the Duke how little reliance he could place upon his new levies, or even upon some of his princ.i.p.al officers. The Duke complimented Stephen on his good conduct in bringing off his men. The party were pretty well knocked up by their march to Bridport and back, and there was little drilling that evening, except among the new levies; but early the next morning the drum beat to arms, the regiments were formed under their respective leaders, and the Duke, putting himself at the head, pa.s.sed them all in review. As Stephen rode near the Duke, he observed that his countenance wore a melancholy expression, the animation which had at first appeared having quite faded from it. He evidently had taken greatly to heart the death of Dare; still, as he had commenced the enterprise, he seemed resolved to carry it out. His troops were in a very different mood; they saw not the dangers ahead, and were mostly under the belief that the king's forces would melt away before them should they be encountered. Stephen, as he rode among the ranks, observed the awkward movements of some of the men, the jaunty air of others, and the ragged appearance of the cavalry, many of the horses being large untrained colts, and began to feel less confident of success till he recollected that probably the militia regiments on the king's side were much in the same condition, and, moreover, that they were well-affected towards the Duke. The army marched slowly and leisurely along till they reached Axminster, where news was brought to the Duke that Albemarle was advancing with a large body of militia to attack them. Monmouth skilfully drew up his forces; the four field-pieces were planted so as to command the road along which the Royal troops were approaching, while the thick hedges which on each side overhung the narrow lanes were lined with musketeers; the cavalry were held in reserve.

"Here they come, my lads," cried Stephen Battis...o...b.., as Albemarle's men were seen in the distance. "Steady, now; if they venture to attack us, we shall soon send them to the right-about."

At first the enemy came on boldly and rapidly. While still beyond musket range they were seen to halt, then suddenly to retreat. The insurgents on this dashed forward. As they heard the cheers and shouts of Monmouth's men, throwing down their arms they took to flight, and scampered off in all directions across the country. They were pursued for some distance, and coats, muskets, and pikes were picked up by the victorious insurgents.

"Now, surely the Duke of Monmouth will follow up the pursuit, and we shall probably capture Exeter without a blow," observed Stephen.

"No chance of that, I fear," answered his brother Andrew, who was riding by his side. "Hark! there is the recall, and it is a signal our raw fellows will be glad enough to obey."

This last remark was too true. The Duke of Monmouth, probably unwilling to employ his recruits in any hazardous service till they were better trained, thought it wise to be satisfied with the advantage he had already gained, and continued his march towards Taunton, and that evening reached the neighbourhood of Chard, where the troops encamped in a meadow outside the town. The Duke was now near the estates of those friends who had entertained him so sumptuously a few years before, and he naturally looked forward to being joined by a number of those gentlemen and their retainers; but only one, John Speke, the son of Mr George Speke of White Lackington Hall, arrived at the camp, with forty hors.e.m.e.n of no very imposing appearance from Chard. The next morning the Duke's forces marched to Ilminster, about four miles off, and encamped in a field about half a mile beyond the town; still he was looking forward to the arrival of fresh levies headed by men of consequence. None, however, arrived, though labouring men in vast numbers would have joined his standard if arms could have been found for them. Bad news also arrived from Lyme; the king's frigate had sailed into the harbour and had captured the _Pink_ and another vessel which had on board numerous barrels of gunpowder, and several thousand breast and head pieces for cavalry, though, considering that there were no horses or men to wear the defensive armour, it was not of much consequence. Thus far there had been no success. The Duke now resolved to march to Taunton, that celebrated and beautiful little town which had endured so heroic a siege under Blake. It was here that during his progress he had been received with such remarkable honours, and he fully expected now to receive a similar treatment. Taunton was densely populated, and was the seat of the trade in serges, and as most of the manufacturers were Dissenters, they were universally in favour of the Duke of Monmouth. As Monmouth approached Taunton several persons came out from the town, who informed him that it had been occupied till the day before by Royal troops, but they, hearing of the disorder into which the militia had been thrown between Axminster and Chard, about midnight, a drum sounding both officers and men, had marched out, having received orders to appear at Bridgewater. Messengers also promised a cordial reception to the Duke should he come. The Duke, having encamped his forces outside the town, prepared to enter it. He was met by a large body of men on horseback, every person who possessed a steed going out to meet him, while the rest of the inhabitants on foot rent the air with applause and acclamations. The streets through which he pa.s.sed were strewed with flowers; the windows were thronged with spectators, all eager to gaze on the hero they had been taught to admire. The Duke's spirits rose higher than they had been since he landed. The Duke had taken up his residence at the house of Captain Hucker. The following morning it was announced to him that a procession was approaching to do him honour. He descended the steps in front of the house, when he saw coming towards him a band of young maidens, each carrying banners of different colours, which they had worked with their own hands. At their head appeared a lady of more mature age, carrying a naked sword in one hand and in the other a small curious Bible, which she presented with a short acceptable speech. The Duke, looking greatly pleased, a.s.sured her that he had undertaken with a resolution to defend the truth contained in the book, to seal it, should it be required, with his blood. He then saluted each of the young ladies, as did Lord Grey. His Grace then mounted his horse, and the twenty-seven young maidens followed, each bearing a banner, and led by a young man. Among the flags was a golden banner worked with the initials J.R. and a crown. Having paraded through the streets, the Duke returned to his abode, and the young maidens retired to their own homes. The day after, some of his princ.i.p.al advisers recommended the Duke to a.s.sume the t.i.tle of King.

The Duke was willing to do this, and there were many reasons in favour of the step, though many also against it. It was argued that a large number of the n.o.bility were unwilling to take up arms in his cause, fearing that unless a king was at the head of the movement, it might result in the establishment of a Commonwealth, to which they were strongly opposed. Several of his Republican officers, on hearing of the proposal, expressed themselves greatly averse to it; and it was not without much difficulty that they were won over to give their consent, in the hopes that they should be immediately joined by the n.o.bility and gentry, who were now hanging back. Stephen Battis...o...b.. and his brothers, knowing their father's principles, felt sure that he would disapprove of this step; at the same time, they had become so attached to the Duke that they were ready to agree to anything which it was supposed would forward his interests. The subject was anxiously discussed by many of the best friends of the Duke. The flag carried by Miss Mary Mead, the work of the maids of Taunton, on which were emblazoned the initials J.R. and the crown, had been seen by thousands, and that emblem could not have been mistaken. No one had complained.

The fatal step was quickly decided on,--fatal, because should the Duke fail and be captured, it would cut off all hope of pardon from James the Second. On Sat.u.r.day, 20th June, some of the chief magistrates were compelled to attend in their gowns at the market crossing, where a large concourse of people were a.s.sembled. Mr Tyler then read the following proclamation:--"Whereas, upon the decease of our Sovereign, Charles the Second, late King of England, the succession to the Crown of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, with the dominions and territories thereunto belonging, did legally descend and devolve upon the most ill.u.s.trious and high-born Prince, James, Duke of Monmouth, son and heir-apparent to the said King Charles the Second; but James, Duke of York, taking advantage of the absence of the said James, Duke of Monmouth, beyond the seas, did first cause the said late King to be poisoned, and immediately thereupon did usurp and invade the Crown, and doth continue so to do. We, therefore, the n.o.blemen, gentlemen, and commons at present a.s.sembled, in the names of ourselves and all the loyal and Protestant n.o.blemen, gentlemen, and commons of England, in pursuance of our duty and allegiance, and of the delivering of the kingdom from Popery, tyranny, and oppression, do recognise, publish, and proclaim the said high and mighty Prince, James, Duke of Monmouth, our lawful and rightful Sovereign and King, by the name of James the Second, by the grace of G.o.d, King of England, Scotland, France, and Ireland, defender of the Faith," etcetera.

"G.o.d bless the King," the people shouted, and immediately the officers of the army and the princ.i.p.al inhabitants advanced and kissed Monmouth's hand, and addressed him as, "Sire," and, "Your Majesty." The news spread far and wide, and an enthusiastic gentleman, Colonel Dore of Lymington, in Hampshire, proclaimed the Duke of Monmouth, and raised a troop of a hundred men for his service. Volunteers now poured in in even greater numbers than before. Many had to be sent back for want of arms of any description. There was not even a sufficiency of scythes for all Monmouth still waited in vain for news of an insurrection in London. Colonel Danvers, who had promised to head it, hung back, fearing to risk his life in the enterprise. The king's forces were now gathering from all directions to oppose the Duke. The household troops, the only real soldiers who could be depended upon, were marching from London, and were likely to prove formidable antagonists to Monmouth's ill-disciplined volunteers. Stephen had been sent on outpost duty with his small body of horse. He had been directed to proceed in the direction of Chard, when towards evening, as he was about to return, he discovered a party of Royal horse galloping towards him. Though he soon discovered that they were superior in numbers to him, he drew up his men to receive them. They came on, led by a young officer, who showed abundant bravery if not much skill. As the party advanced Stephen gave the word to charge. Shots were rapidly exchanged, and swords were clashing as the combatants met in a doubtful fight. First to fall was the young officer. Two of Stephen's men dropped from their horses, two others directly afterwards were shot. Notwithstanding, the Royal troopers, discouraged by the loss of their officer, wheeled round and took to flight. Several more of his men had been wounded, so that Stephen was unable to pursue the enemy, and he judged it wise to make the best of his way back to Taunton, fearing that he might be shut up in the town. The Duke at once resolved to march on Bridgewater, where he might hope to obtain arms and pecuniary a.s.sistance from the wealthy inhabitants devoted to his cause. It had been proposed to fortify Taunton, but since its memorable siege, when defended by Blake, the walls and fortifications had been destroyed, and a considerable number of men would have been required for its defence. The day after Monmouth had a.s.sumed the kingly t.i.tle he marched out of Taunton at the head of an army, which, in point of numbers, might well have encouraged him with hopes of success, but Stephen Battis...o...b.. observed with regret that he looked dispirited, in spite of the acclamations of the devoted thousands which were raised wherever he appeared. Stephen, as he was pa.s.sing out of the town, observed Mr Ferguson, the Duke's chaplain, whom he had often met, standing with a drawn sword in his hand, looking more like a lunatic than a sane minister of the Gospel.

"What can have come over the man?" remarked Stephen to his brother.

"Hark! hear what he is saying."

"Look at me, you have heard of me," shouted the chaplain. "I am Ferguson, the famous Ferguson, for whose head so many hundred pounds have been offered." Thus he continued uttering the same or similar phrases till the army had pa.s.sed by.

"I have long ago taken the man's measure, and have heartily wished that the Duke had a better adviser," said Andrew.

The two brothers rode on with their men, keeping a watchful look-out on every side in case the enemy should suddenly appear. Bridgewater was reached without opposition, and in the evening Monmouth's army, now mustering six thousand tolerably armed men, entered Bridgewater. The Duke met with a cordial reception from the Mayor and Corporation of that town, who proclaimed him king at the High Cross. The army was encamped on Castle Field, on the east side of the town, and the Duke himself took up his lodgings in the castle close by. The Duke might have been encouraged when he thought of the siege and gallant defence of Bridgewater by the famous Blake, who was a native of the town. A body-guard of forty young men, well mounted and armed, who paid their own expenses, had been formed for the protection of Monmouth's person, while the whole of his cavalry amounted to a thousand horse. His object was now to push forward, and, if an opportunity offered, to capture Bristol. He therefore made but a short stay at Bridgewater, and proceeded on to Glas...o...b..ry, in the famous abbey of which a part of the army took up their quarters, while others occupied the neighbouring churches. His intention of taking Bristol was frustrated by the bridge across the Avon being broken-down, and by the Earl of Feversham having entered the city at the head of two hundred and fifty of the Horse Guards, formidable antagonists for Monmouth's ill-disciplined cavalry to encounter. During the march Monmouth's troops had been greatly hara.s.sed by the cavalry under Lord Churchill, afterwards the famous Duke of Marlborough. Monmouth knew that the inhabitants of Bristol were ready to rise the moment he should commence to attack, but the Duke of Beaufort, who commanded there, threatened to burn down the city at the least sign of rebellion, and Monmouth was delayed by the destruction of the bridge, while the king's forces were gathering round him in large numbers. He was compelled to abandon his design and to countermarch to Bridgewater. At Philip's Norton the advanced guard of the two armies met and had a sharp action, that of the Royal army being led by the Duke of Grafton, a half-brother of Monmouth. Grafton, leading on his men, found himself in a deep lane with fences on both sides of him, from which a galling fire of musketry was kept up, but he pushed on boldly till he came to the entrance of Philip's Norton; there his way was crossed by a barricade, from which a third fire met him full in front.

His men now lost heart, and made the best of their way out of the lane; but before they got out of it more than a hundred of them had been killed or wounded. Grafton now encountered a party of Monmouth's cavalry, and cutting his way through them, came off safe. Though the two armies were now face to face, neither was anxious to engage in a general action. Feversham was waiting for his artillery, and Monmouth knew that his followers, in spite of their courage and zeal, were no match for regular soldiers. He had hoped that those regiments which he had formerly commanded would pa.s.s over to his standard, but that hope he was now compelled to relinquish; his heart filled, and he almost gave way to despair. Even at this time a proclamation was circulated, issued by James the Second, offering an amnesty to all who would lay down their arms and abandon Monmouth, excepting certain leaders who were expressly named. A meeting was accordingly held by some of Monmouth's chief supporters, who proposed that those who were excluded from the amnesty should retreat to the coast and embark for Holland, leaving their followers to make such terms as they could with the Government.

Monmouth in the present desponding mood was much disposed to adopt this measure. He did not look upon it as a disgraceful proceeding. Many lives would be saved, and he and his officers would preserve theirs.

The step, however, was strongly opposed by Lord Grey, who implored the Duke to face any danger rather than requite with ingrat.i.tude and treachery the devoted attachment of the western peasantry. Abandoning this project, Monmouth, hearing that there was a rising of the inhabitants of the districts in the neighbourhood of Bridgewater, determined to return thither, and re-entered that town on the 2nd of July, having pa.s.sed through Wells on his way. He now thought of fortifying that place, and had commenced the undertaking when the king's forces appeared in sight. They consisted of two thousand five hundred troops, and one thousand five hundred of the Wiltshire militia. Instead of at once attacking the Duke, they encamped on the plain of Sedgemoor, about three miles from Bridgewater. Stephen Battis...o...b.., by his courage and judgment, had risen high in Monmouth's favour, and now, with several other officers, accompanied the Duke to the top of the parish church steeple, the loftiest in the county. From it a wide view could be obtained, and with their gla.s.ses they could distinguish across the moor the villages where the royal army was posted. In one of them, Weston Zoyland, lay the royal cavalry, and here Feversham had fixed his head-quarters. Further off lay Middle Zoy, where the Wiltshire militia were quartered, and upon the moor, not far from Chedzoy, were encamped several battalions of regular infantry. Among them the Duke distinguished Dumbarton's regiment, which he himself had once commanded.

"I know those men," he said, turning to Stephen; "they will fight. If I had but them, all would go well."

Still, formidable as the force appeared, the Duke knew Feversham's incapacity, and even on the eve of battle his spies brought in word to Monmouth that his troops were regaling themselves with cider, and that no regular outposts had been established. On this the idea occurred to him that it might be possible to surprise the king's forces, and to cut them to pieces. Lord Grey and the other princ.i.p.al officers agreed to this, and it was arranged that they should march out that very night.

Castlefield, where they were encamped, presented on that Sunday afternoon a spectacle which for many a long year had not been seen in England since the disbanding of Cromwell's soldiers. The greater number of the men were Dissenters. The day was pa.s.sed in religious exercises according to the Puritan fashion. The preachers who had taken up arms against Popery, some of whom had fought in the great Civil War, appeared in red coats and jack boots, with swords by their sides. Stephen Battis...o...b.. heartily joined in the religious exercises, though he avoided the spot where Ferguson was holding forth, and endeavouring to prove that the war in which they were engaged was not rebellion, but a righteous enterprise which merited the support of Heaven. Among the soldiers were their wives and daughters, who had come into the town from the surrounding districts to see them on that Sabbath-day; and when the camp-meeting broke up, and the trumpet summoned the men to their ranks, many parted who were never to meet again. Evening of that summer day drew on, and the time to commence the march arrived. As the Duke, with his body-guard, rode out of the castle, many remarked that his look was sad and full of evil augury. The night was well suited for the contemplated enterprise. Though the moon was at the full, and the northern streamers were shining brilliantly, the marsh fog lay so thickly on Sedgemoor that no object could be discerned fifty paces off.

The Duke himself led the infantry, while the cavalry, a thousand strong, had been committed to Lord Grey, notwithstanding the remonstrances of many who mistrusted him after his previous ill-success. Stephen would willingly have had a different leader, for though Lord Grey was faithful to the cause he had espoused and courageous in council, yet he was dest.i.tute of that nerve which is the great requisite of an officer. He could have had no confidence in the greater number of his men, who, though brave, were quite undisciplined. Many of them had been embodied but a few days, and had not learned the use of their weapons, while their horses were unaccustomed to stand fire, or to act in concert with each other, so that they could be scarcely kept in their ranks. Even on the march most of the infantry also lacked discipline. At the same time, many had served in the militia, and being all animated with the same zeal, knew that they could trust each other. The scythe-men especially were st.u.r.dy fellows, drawn from the neighbouring mines, and were ready to fight to the last. Although the distance to Feversham's camp was little more than three miles, in order to avoid two deep ditches, called in those parts plungeons or steanings, the Duke, led by a guide, took a circuitous route of nearly six miles in length. There was a third ditch, called the Rhine, which still lay between him and the king's camp, but of which he knew nothing. There was a ford across this Rhine, by which his troops might have pa.s.sed over, but which in the darkness was missed. In silence and darkness Monmouth's devoted troops marched on. Some confusion and delay were caused by the first two ditches, but these having been pa.s.sed, the Duke, believing no obstruction existed between him and the royal camp, fully expected to succeed in his enterprise. He here halted for the horse, consisting of eight squadrons, to advance. The four iron guns followed the horse, at the head of the foot, which consisted of five great battalions, each having one company of one hundred scythe-men, who did the duty of grenadiers. He had got within a mile of the camp, when the advanced sentries of the Royal Horse Guards were discovered. A party of Lord Grey's cavalry charged them, when they galloped off to arouse the camp.

Just before this a pistol had been heard to go off, which undoubtedly drew the attention of the king's troops to the advancing force.

Monmouth, hearing that the king's camp was alarmed, ordered Lord Grey to advance rapidly with the horse, and to fall among the tents of the foot, so as to take them in flank, being still ignorant of the great ditch which protected them. Lord Grey accordingly marched on, to execute the orders given him, towards the upper plungeon; but he missed the pa.s.sage over the ditch, and led his men by the outside till they were opposite Dumbarton's regiment. Being challenged, some one answered "Albemarle,"

and he accordingly, supposing them to be friends, allowed five hundred of them to pa.s.s. Lord Grey, then coming to the first battalion of the Guards, Captain Berkley, who commanded the right wing of the musketeers, inquired whom they were for. The answer was, "The king."

"What king?" he asked.