CHAPTER XVI.
ON THE MARCH.
At daybreak, next morning, the drums began to beat, and the trumpetsbegan to blow, and, after breakfast, the newly-raised army marchedout in such order as was possible. I have not to write a history ofthis rebellion, which hath already been done by able hands; I speakonly of what I saw, and the things with which I was concerned.
First, then, it is true that the whole country was swiftly put intoa ferment by the Duke's landing; and, had those who planned theexpedition provided a proper supply of arms, the army would havequickly mustered 20,000 men, all resolute and capable of meetingany force that the King could have raised. Nay, it would have grownand swelled as it moved. But there were never enough arms from theoutset. Everything at first promised well for the Duke. But therewere not arms for the half of those who came in. The spirit of theDevon and Somerset Militia was lukewarm; they ran at Bridport, atAxminster, and at Chard; nay, some of them even deserted to jointhe Duke. There were thousands scattered about the country--those,namely, who still held to the doctrines of the persecuted ministers,and those who abhorred the Catholic religion--who wished well andwould have joined--Humphrey knew well-wishers by the thousand whosenames were on the lists in Holland--but how could they join when thearmy was so ill-found? And this was the principal reason, I havebeen assured, why the country gentlemen, with their following, didnot come in at first--because there were no arms. How can soldiersfight when they have no arms? How could the Duke have been sufferedto begin with so scanty a preparation of arms? Afterwards, whenMonmouth proclaimed himself King, there were, perhaps, other reasonswhy the well-wishers held aloof. Some of them certainly, who wereknown to be friends of the Duke (among them our old friend Mr.Prideaux, of Ford Abbey), were arrested and thrown into prison,while many thousands who were flocking to the standard were eitherturned back upon the road or seized and thrown into prison.
As for the quality of the troops which formed the army, I knownothing, except that at Sedgemoor they continued to fight valiantlyafter their leaders had fled. They were raw troops--mere countrylads--and their officers were, for the most part, simple tradesmenwho had no knowledge of the art of war. Dare the younger was agoldsmith; Captain Perrot was a dyer; Captain Hucker, a maker ofserge; and so on with all of them. It was unfortunate that Mr.Andrew Fletcher, of Saltoun, should have killed Mr. Dare the elderon the first day, because, as everybody agrees, the former was themost experienced soldier in the whole army.
The route proposed by the Duke was known to everybody. He intendedto march through Taunton, Bridgwater, and Bristol to Gloucester,where he thought he would be joined by a new army raised by hisfriends in Cheshire. He also reckoned on receiving adherentseverywhere on the road, and on easily defeating any force thatthe King should be able to send against him. How he fared in thatnotable scheme is common history.
Long before the army was ready to march, Humphrey came to advisewith us. First of all, he endeavoured to have speech with my father,but in vain (henceforth my father seemed to have no thought of hiswife and daughter). Humphrey, therefore, advised us to go home. 'Asfor your alleged dedication to the Cause,' he said, 'I think that hehath already forgotten it, seeing that it means nothing, and thatyour presence with us cannot help. Go home, then, Madam, and letAlice persuade Robin to stay at home in order to take care of you.'
'Nay,' said my mother; 'that may we not do. I must obey my husband,who commanded us to follow him. Whither he goeth thither also I willfollow.'
Finding that she was resolute upon this point, Humphrey told us thatthe Duke would certainly march upon Taunton, where more than half ofthe town were his friends. He therefore advised that we should rideto that place--not following the army, but going across the country,most of which is a very wild and desolate part, where we should bein no danger except from gipsies and such wild people, robbers androgues, truly, but now making the most of the disturbed state of thecountry, and running about the roads plundering and thieving. But hesaid he would himself provide us with a guide, one who knew the way,and a good stout fellow, armed with a cudgel, at least. To this mymother agreed, fearing to anger her husband if she should disturbhim at his work.
Humphrey had little trouble in finding the guide for us. He wasan honest lad from a place called Holford, in the Quantock Hills,who, finding that there were no arms for him, was going home again.Unhappily, when we got to Taunton, he was persuaded--partly by me,alas!--to remain. He joined Barnaby's company, and was either killedat Sedgemoor, or was one of those hanged at Weston Zoyland, orBridgwater. For he was no more heard of.
This business settled, we went up to the churchyard in order to seethe march of the army out of camp. And a brave show the gallantsoldiers made.
First rode Colonel Wade with the vanguard. After them, with a dueinterval, rode the greater part of the Horse, already three hundredstrong, under Lord Grey, of Wark. Among them was the company sentby Mr. Speke, of White Lackington, forty very stout fellows, wellarmed, and mounted on cart-horses. The main army was composed offour regiments. The first was the Blue Regiment, or the Duke's Own,whose Colonel was the aforesaid Wade. They formed the van, andwere seven hundred strong. The others were the White, commanded byColonel Foukes; the Green, by Colonel Holmes; and the Yellow, byColonel Fox. All these regiments were fully armed, the men wearingfavours or rosettes in their hats and on their arms of the colourfrom which their regiment was named.
The Duke himself, who rode a great white horse, was surrounded by asmall bodyguard of gentlemen (afterwards they became a company offorty), richly dressed and well mounted. With him were carried thecolours, embroidered with the words 'Pro Religione et Libertate.'This was the second time that I had seen the Duke, and again I feltat sight of his face the foreknowledge of coming woe. On such anoccasion the chief should show a gallant mien and a face of cheerfulhope. The Duke, however, looked gloomy, and hung his head.
Truly, it seemed to me as if no force could dare so much as to meetthis great and invincible army. And certainly there could nowhere begathered together a more stalwart set of soldiers, nearly all youngmen, and full of spirit. They shouted and sang as they marched.Presently there passed us my brother Barnaby, with his company ofthe Green Regiment. It was easy to perceive by the handling of hisarms, and by his bearing, that he was accustomed to act with others,and already he had so begun to instruct his men that they set anexample to the rest both in their orderliness of march and thecarriage of their weapons.
After the main army they carried the ordnance--four smallcannon--and the ammunition in waggons, with guards and horsemen.Lastly, there rode those who do not fight, yet belong to the army.These were the Chaplain to the army, Dr. Hooke, a grave clergyman ofthe Church of England; Mr. Ferguson, the Duke's private Chaplain, afiery person, of whom many hard things have been said, which hereconcern us not; and my father, who thus rode openly with the othertwo, in order that the Nonconformists might be encouraged by hispresence, as an equal with the two chaplains. He was clad in a newcassock, obtained I know not whence. He sat upright in the saddle,a Bible in his hand, his long white locks lying on his shoulderslike a perruque, but more venerable than any wig. His thin face wasflushed with the joy of coming victory, and his eyes flashed fire.If all the men had shown such a spirit, the army would have overrunthe whole country. The four surgeons--Dr. Temple, Dr. Gaylard, Dr.Oliver, and Humphrey--followed, all splendid in black velvet andgreat periwigs. Lastly marched the rear-guard; and after the armythere followed such a motley crew as no one can conceive. There weregipsies, with their black tents and carts, ready to rob and plunder;there were tinkers who are nothing better than gipsies, and are evensaid to speak their language; there were men with casks on wheelsfilled with beer or cider; there were carts carrying bread, cakes,biscuits, and such things as one can buy in a booth or at a fair;there were women of bold and impudent looks, singing as they walked;there were, besides, whole troops of country lads, some of them mereboys, running and strutting along in hopes to receive arms and totake a place in th
e regiments.
Presently they were all gone, and Lyme was quit of them. What becamein the end of all the rabble rout which followed the army I knownot. One thing was certain: the godly disposition, the pious singingof psalms, and the devout exposition of the Word which I had lookedfor in the army were not anywhere apparent. Rather there was evidenta tumultuous joy, as of schoolboys out for a holiday--certainly noschoolboys could have made more noise or showed greater happiness intheir faces. Among them, however, there were some men of middle age,whose faces showed a different temper; but these were rare.
'Lord help them!' said our friendly fisherwoman, who stood with us.'There will be hard knocks before those fine fellows go home again.'
'They fight on the Lord's side,' said my mother; 'therefore they maybe killed, but they will not wholly perish.'
As for the hard knocks, they began without any delay, and on thatvery morning. For at Axminster they encountered the Somerset andDevon Militia, who thought to join their forces, but were speedilyput to flight by the rebels--a victory which greatly encouraged them.
It hath been maliciously said, I have heard, that we followed thearmy--as if we were two sutler women--on foot, I suppose, trampingin the dust, singing ribald songs like those poor creatures whom wesaw marching out of Lyme. You have heard how we agreed to followHumphrey's advice. Well, we left Lyme very early the next morning(our fisherwoman having now become very friendly and loth to letus go) and rode out, our guide (poor lad! his death lies heavy onmy soul, yet I meant the best: and, truly, he was on the side ofthe Lord) marching beside us armed with a stout bludgeon. We keptthe main road (which was very quiet at this early hour) as far asAxminster, where we left it; and, after crossing the river by aford or wash, we engaged upon a track, or path, which led along thebanks of a little stream for a mile or two--as far as the village ofChardstock. Here we made no halt; but, leaving it behind, we struckinto a most wild and mountainous country full of old forests andgreat bare places. It is called the Forest of Neroche, and is saidto shelter numbers of gipsies and vagabonds, and to have in it someof those wild people who live in the hills and woods of Somerset,and do no work except to gather the dry broom and tie it up and sellit, and so live hard and hungry lives, but know not any master.These are reported to be a harmless people, but the gipsies aredangerous because they are ready to rob and even murder. I thoughtof Barnaby's bag of gold tied about my waist, and trembled. However,we met with none of them on our journey, because just then they wereall running after Monmouth's army. There was no path over the hillsby the way we took; but our guide knew the country so well that heneeded none, pointing out all the hills with a kind of pride as ifthey belonged to him, and telling us the name of every one; butthese I have long since forgotten. The country, however, I can neverforget, because it is so wild and beautiful. One place I remember.It is a very strange and wonderful place. The ground here is high,and at one place it rises to a kind of point or hill, falling away,on all sides but one, in steep sides, up which a man could climbwith difficulty. Round the hill have been cut deep trenches, nodoubt to fortify and strengthen the place, which is by nature afortress. And on the side where the ground is level there are raisedvery high earth-works or walls with trenches beyond, most wonderfulto consider. Within this double or triple circle of trenches andearthen walls there stands a farm-house, solitary among the hills.Here we found an ancient dame who told us that the place had beena castle of the Romans: yet it was not like unto the castle atSherborne, which Oliver Cromwell slighted after he took the place,blowing it up with gunpowder: nor was it like the castle at Tauntonwhich I afterwards saw, for there were no stone walls or towers,or any appearance of stone work. To be sure, Sherborne Castle wasnot built by the Romans. Then this old dame showed us bits of potsdug up within the walls, and rusty arrow heads and green copperthings, which she said were buckles to fasten their clothes withal.She gave us a cup of cider while we rested and took here our dinnerof cold bacon and bread which we had brought with us. After dinnerour guide took us to the hill called the Beacon, and showed us thebroad Vale of Taunton, spread out below us like unto a map, with itsfarm-houses, fields, orchards, and churches. 'And all for Monmouth,'he said. Surely there cannot be a richer, more fertile, or morelovely place in all England than the Vale of Taunton. When we hadrested, and enjoyed this enchanting prospect, we remounted our nagsand descended by a gradual incline into the plain below. Humphreyhad provided us with a letter commendatory. He, who knew the namesof all who were well affected, assured us that the lady to whomthe letter was addressed, Miss Susan Blake by name, was one of themost forward in the Protestant Cause. She was well known and muchrespected, and she kept a school for young gentlewomen, where manychildren of the Nonconformist gentry were educated. He instructed usto proceed directly to her house, and to ask her to procure for us adecent and safe lodging. He could not have given us a letter to anybetter person.
It was late in the afternoon when we rode into Taunton. The streetswere full of people running about, talking now in groups and nowby twos and threes; now shouting and now whispering; while we rodealong the street, a man ran bawling--
'Great news! great news! Monmouth is upon us with twice ten thousandmen!'
It seems that they had only that day learned of the defeat of theMilitia by the rebels. A company of the Somerset Militia were in thetown, under Colonel Luttrell, in order to keep down the people.
Taunton is, as everybody knows, a most rich, prosperous, andpopulous town. I had never before seen so many houses and so manypeople gathered together. Why, if the men of Taunton declared forthe Duke, his cause, one felt sure, was already won. For thereis nowhere, as I could not fail to know, a greater strongholdof Dissent than this town, except London, and none where theNonconformists have more injuries to remember. Only two years beforethis their meeting-houses had been broken into, and their pulpitsand pews brought out and burned, and they were forced, against theirconscience, to worship in the parish church.
We easily found Miss Blake's house, and, giving our horses to theguide, we presented her with our letter. She was a young womansomewhat below the common stature, quick of speech, her face andeyes full of vivacity, and about thirty years of age. But when shehad read the letter, and understood who we were, and whence we came,she first made a deep reverence to my mother and then she took myhands and kissed me.
'Madam,' she said, 'believe me, my poor house will be honouredindeed by the presence of the wife and the daughter of the godlyDr. Comfort Eykin. Pray, pray, go no further. I have a room thatis at your disposal. Go thither, Madam, I beg, and rest after yourjourney. The wife of Dr. Comfort Eykin. 'Tis indeed an honour.' Andso with the kindest words she led us upstairs, and gave us a roomwith a bed in it, and caused water for washing to be brought, andpresently went out with me to buy certain things needful for us (whowere indeed somewhat rustical in our dress), in order that we mightpresent the appearance of gentlewomen--thanks to Barnaby's heavypurse, I could get them without troubling my mother's careful mindabout the cost. She then gave us supper, and told us all the news.The King, she said, was horribly afraid, and it was rumoured thatthe priests had all been sent away to France; the Taunton peoplewere resolved to give the Duke a brave reception; all over thecountry, there was no doubt, men would rally by thousands; she wasin a rapture of joy and gratitude. Supper over, she took us to herschool-room, and here--oh! the pretty sight!--her school-girls wereengaged in working and embroidering flags for the Duke's army.
'I know not,' she said, 'whether his Grace will condescend toreceive them. But it is all we women can do.' Poor wretch! sheafterwards suffered the full penalty for her zeal.
All that evening we heard the noise of men running about the town,with the clanking of weapons and the commands of officers; but weknew not what had happened.
Lo! in the morning the glad tidings that the Militia had leftthe town. Nor was that all: for at daybreak the people began toassemble, and, there being none to stay them, broke into the greatchurch of St. Mary's and took pos
session of the arms that had beendeposited for safety in the tower. They also opened the prison andset free a worthy Nonconformist divine, named Vincent. All themorning the mob ran about the streets, shouting, 'A Monmouth! AMonmouth!' the magistrates and Royalists not daring so much as toshow their faces, and there was nothing talked of but the overthrowof the King and the triumph of the Protestant religion. Nay, therewere fiery speakers in the market-place and before the west porchof the church, who mounted on tubs and exhorted the people. Gravemerchants came forth and shook hands with each other; and godlyministers who had been in hiding walked forth boldly. It was truly agreat day for Taunton.
The excitement grew greater when Captain Hucker, a well-knownserge-maker of the town, rode in with a troop of Monmouth's Horse.Captain Hucker had been seized by Colonel Phillips on the charge ofreceiving a message from the Duke, but he escaped and joined therebels, to his greater loss, as afterwards appeared. However, henow rode in to tell his fellow townsmen of his own wonderful andprovidential escape, and that the Duke would certainly arrive thenext day, and he exhorted them to give him such a welcome as he hada right to expect at their hands. He also reminded them that theywere the sons of the men who, forty years before, defended Tauntonunder Admiral Blake. There was a great shouting and tossing of capsafter Captain Hucker's address, and no one could do too much for thehorsemen with him, so that I fear these brave fellows were soon fainto lie down and sleep till the fumes of the strong ale should leavetheir brains.
'_Her schoolgirls were engaged in working andembroidering flags for the Duke's army._']
All that day and half the night we sat in Miss Blake's school-roomfinishing the flags, in which I was permitted to join. There weretwenty-seven flags in all presented to the army by the Tauntonmaids: twelve by Miss Blake, and fifteen by one Mrs. Musgrave, alsoa schoolmistress. And now, indeed, seeing that the Militia atAxminster had fled almost at the mere aspect of one man, and thatthose of Taunton had also fled away secretly by night, and catchingthe zeal of our kind entertainer, and considering the courage andspirit of these good people, I began to feel confident again, and myheart, which had fallen very low at the sight of the Duke's hanginghead and gloomy looks, rose again, and all dangers seemed to vanish.And so, in a mere fool's paradise, I continued happy indeed, untilthe fatal news of Sedgemoor fight awoke us all from our fond dreams.