The History of England, from the Accession of James the Second - Volume 1 by Thomas Babington Macaulay (diy ebook reader .txt) 📕

morning of the twentieth of June he was

proclaimed in the market place of Taunton. His followers repeated

his new title with affectionate delight. But, as some confusion

might have arisen if he had been called King James the Second,

they commonly used the strange appellation of King Monmouth: and

by this name their unhappy favourite was often mentioned in the

western counties, within the memory of persons still living.379


Within twenty-four hours after he had assumed the regal title, he

put forth several proclamations headed with his sign manual. By

one of these he set a price on the head of his rival. Another

declared the Parliament then sitting at Westminster an unlawful

assembly, and commanded the members to disperse. A third forbade

the people to pay taxes to the usurper. A fourth pronounced

Albemarle a traitor.380


Albemarle transmitted these proclamations to London merely as

specimens of folly and impertinence. They produced no effect,

except wonder and contempt; nor had Monmouth any reason to think

that the assumption of royalty had improved his position. Only a

week had elapsed since he had solemnly bound himself not to take

the crown till a free Parliament should have acknowledged his

rights. By breaking that engagement he had incurred the

imputation of levity, if not of perfidy. The class which he had

hoped to conciliate still stood aloof. The reasons which

prevented the great Whig lords and gentlemen from recognising him

as their King were at least as strong as those which had

prevented them from rallying round him as their Captain General.

They disliked indeed the person, the religion, and the politics

of James. But James was no longer young. His eldest daughter was

justly popular. She was attached to the reformed faith. She was

married to a prince who was the hereditary chief of the

Protestants of the Continent, to a prince who had been bred in a

republic, and whose sentiments were supposed to be such as became

a constitutional King. Was it wise to incur the horrors of civil

war, for the mere chance of being able to effect immediately what

nature would, without bloodshed, without any violation of law,

effect, in all probability, before many years should have

expired? Perhaps there might be reasons for pulling down James.

But what reason could be given for setting up Monmouth? To

exclude a prince from the throne on account of unfitness was a

course agreeable to Whig principles. But on no principle could it

be proper to exclude rightful heirs, who were admitted to be, not

only blameless, but eminently qualified for the highest public

trust. That Monmouth was legitimate, nay, that he thought himself

legitimate, intelligent men could not believe. He was therefore

not merely an usurper, but an usurper of the worst sort, an

impostor. If he made out any semblance of a case, he could do so

only by means of forgery and perjury. All honest and sensible

persons were unwilling to see a fraud which, if practiced to

obtain an estate, would have been punished with the scourge and

the pillory, rewarded with the English crown. To the old nobility

of the realm it seemed insupportable that the bastard of Lucy

Walters should be set up high above the lawful descendants of the

Fitzalans and De Veres. Those who were capable of looking forward

must have seen that, if Monmouth should succeed in overpowering

the existing government, there would still remain a war between

him and the House of Orange, a war which might last longer and

produce more misery than the war of the Roses, a war which might

probably break up the Protestants of Europe into hostile parties,

might arm England and Holland against each other, and might make

both those countries an easy prey to France. The opinion,

therefore, of almost all the leading Whigs seems to have been

that Monmouth's enterprise could not fail to end in some great

disaster to the nation, but that, on the whole, his defeat would

be a less disaster than his victory.


It was not only by the inaction of the Whig aristocracy that the

invaders were disappointed. The wealth and power of London had

sufficed in the preceding generation, and might again suffice, to

turn the scale in a civil conflict. The Londoners had formerly

given many proofs of their hatred of Popery and of their

affection for the Protestant Duke. He had too readily believed

that, as soon as he landed, there would be a rising in the

capital. But, though advices came down to him that many thousands

of the citizens had been enrolled as volunteers for the good

cause, nothing was done. The plain truth was that the agitators

who had urged him to invade England, who had promised to rise on

the first signal, and who had perhaps imagined, while the danger

was remote, that they should have the courage to keep their

promise, lost heart when the critical time drew near. Wildman's

fright was such that he seemed to have lost his understanding.

The craven Danvers at first excused his inaction by saying that

he would not take up arms till Monmouth was proclaimed King, and.

when Monmouth had been proclaimed King, turned round and declared

that good republicans were absolved from all engagements to a

leader who had so shamefully broken faith. In every age the

vilest specimens of human nature are to be found among

demagogues.381


On the day following that on which Monmouth had assumed the regal

title he marched from Taunton to Bridgewater. His own spirits, it

was remarked, were not high. The acclamations of the devoted

thousands who surrounded him wherever he turned could not dispel

the gloom which sate on his brow. Those who had seen him during

his progress through Somersetshire five years before could not

now observe without pity the traces of distress and anxiety on

those soft and pleasing features which had won so many hearts.382


Ferguson was in a very different temper. With this man's knavery

was strangely mingled an eccentric vanity which resembled

madness. The thought that he had raised a rebellion and bestowed

a crown had turned his head. He swaggered about, brandishing his

naked sword, and crying to the crowd of spectators who had

assembled to see the army march out of Taunton, "Look at me! You

have heard of me. I am Ferguson, the famous Ferguson, the

Ferguson for whose head so many hundred pounds have been

offered." And this man, at once unprincipled and brainsick, had

in his keeping the understanding and the conscience of the

unhappy Monmouth.383


Bridgewater was one of the few towns which still had some Whig

magistrates. The Mayor and Aldermen came in their robes to

welcome the Duke, walked before him in procession to the high

cross, and there proclaimed him King. His troops found excellent

quarters, and were furnished with necessaries at little or no

cost by the people of the town and neighbourhood. He took up his

residence in the Castle, a building which had been honoured by

several royal visits. In the Castle Field his army was encamped.

It now consisted of about six thousand men, and might easily have

been increased to double the number, but for the want of arms.

The Duke had brought with him from the Continent but a scanty

supply of pikes and muskets. Many of his followers had,

therefore, no other weapons than such as could be fashioned out

of the tools which they had used in husbandry or mining. Of these

rude implements of war the most formidable was made by fastening

the blade of a scythe erect on a strong pole.384 The tithing men

of the country round Taunton and Bridgewater received orders to

search everywhere for scythes and to bring all that could be

found to the camp. It was impossible, however, even with the help

of these contrivances, to supply the demand; and great numbers

who were desirous to enlist were sent away.385


The foot were divided into six regiments. Many of the men had

been in the militia, and still wore their uniforms, red and

yellow. The cavalry were about a thousand in number; but most of

them had only large colts, such as were then bred in great herds

on the marshes of Somersetshire for the purpose of supplying

London with coach horses and cart horses. These animals were so

far from being fit for any military purpose that they had not yet

learned to obey the bridle, and became ungovernable as soon as

they heard a gun fired or a drum beaten. A small body guard of

forty young men, well armed, and mounted at their own charge,

attended Monmouth. The people of Bridgewater, who were enriched

by a thriving coast trade, furnished him with a small sum of

money.386


All this time the forces of the government were fast assembling.

On the west of the rebel army, Albemarle still kept together a

large body of Devonshire militia. On the east, the trainbands of

Wiltshire had mustered under the command of Thomas Herbert, Earl

of Pembroke. On the north east, Henry Somerset, Duke of Beaufort,

was in arms. The power of Beaufort bore some faint resemblance to

that of the great barons of the fifteenth century. He was

President of Wales and Lord Lieutenant of four English counties.

His official tours through the extensive region in which he

represented the majesty of the throne were scarcely inferior in

pomp to royal progresses. His household at Badminton was

regulated after the fashion of an earlier generation. The land to

a great extent round his pleasure grounds was in his own hands;

and the labourers who cultivated it formed part of his family.

Nine tables were every day spread under his roof for two hundred

persons. A crowd of gentlemen and pages were under the orders of

the steward. A whole troop of cavalry obeyed the master of the

horse. The fame of the kitchen, the cellar, the kennel, and the

stables was spread over all England. The gentry, many miles

round, were proud of the magnificence of their great neighbour,

and were at the same time charmed by his affability and good

nature. He was a zealous Cavalier of the old school. At this

crisis, therefore, he used his whole influence and authority in

support of the crown, and occupied Bristol with the trainbands of

Gloucestershire, who seem to have been better disciplined than

most other troops of that description.387


In the counties more remote from Somersetshire the supporters of

the throne were on the alert. The militia of Sussex began to

march westward, under the command of Richard, Lord Lumley, who,

though he had lately been converted from the Roman Catholic

religion, was still firm in his allegiance to a Roman Catholic

King. James Bertie, Earl of Abingdon, called out the array of