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

was as zealous in his cause as either Taunton or

Bridgewater, but could do nothing to serve him. There had been a

rising a few days before; and Monmouth's declaration had been

posted up in the market place. But the news of this movement had

been carried to the Earl of Pembroke, who lay at no great

distance with the Wiltshire militia. He had instantly marched to

Frome, had routed a mob of rustics who, with scythes and

pitchforks, attempted to oppose him, had entered the town and had

disarmed the inhabitants. No weapons, therefore, were left there;

nor was Monmouth able to furnish any.399


The rebel army was in evil case. The march of the preceding night

had been wearisome. The rain had fallen in torrents; and the

roads had become mere quagmires. Nothing was heard of the

promised succours from Wiltshire. One messenger brought news that

Argyle's forces had been dispersed in Scotland. Another reported

that Feversham, having been joined by his artillery, was about to

advance. Monmouth understood war too well not to know that his

followers, with all their courage and all their zeal, were no

match for regular soldiers. He had till lately flattered himself

with the hope that some of those regiments which he had formerly

commanded would pass over to his standard: but that hope he was

now compelled to relinquish. His heart failed him. He could

scarcely muster firmness enough to give orders. In his misery he

complained bitterly of the evil counsellors who had induced him

to quit his happy retreat in Brabant. Against Wildman in

particular he broke forth into violent imprecations.400 And now

an ignominious thought rose in his weak and agitated mind. He

would leave to the mercy of the government the thousands who had,

at his call and for his sake, abandoned their quiet fields and

dwellings. He would steal away with his chief officers, would

gain some seaport before his flight was suspected, would escape

to the Continent, and would forget his ambition and his shame in

the arms of Lady Wentworth. He seriously discussed this scheme

with his leading advisers. Some of them, trembling for their

necks, listened to it with approbation; but Grey, who, by the

admission of his detractors, was intrepid everywhere except where

swords were clashing and guns going off around him, opposed the

dastardly proposition with great ardour, and implored the Duke to

face every danger rather than requite with ingratitude and

treachery the devoted attachment of the Western peasantry.401


The scheme of flight was abandoned: but it was not now easy to

form any plan for a campaign. To advance towards London would

have been madness; for the road lay right across Salisbury Plain;

and on that vast open space regular troops, and above all regular

cavalry, would have acted with every advantage against

undisciplined men. At this juncture a report reached the camp

that the rustics of the marshes near Axbridge had risen in

defence of the Protestant religion, had armed themselves with

flails, bludgeons, and pitchforks, and were assembling by

thousands at Bridgewater. Monmouth determined to return thither,

and to strengthen himself with these new allies.402


The rebels accordingly proceeded to Wells, and arrived there in

no amiable temper. They were, with few exceptions, hostile to

Prelacy; and they showed their hostility in a way very little to

their honour. They not only tore the lead from the roof of the

magnificent Cathedral to make bullets, an act for which they

might fairly plead the necessities of war, but wantonly defaced

the ornaments of the building. Grey with difficulty preserved the

altar from the insults of some ruffians who wished to carouse

round it, by taking his stand before it with his sword drawn.403


On Thursday, the second of July, Monmouth again entered

Bridgewater, In circumstances far less cheering than those in

which he had marched thence ten days before. The reinforcement

which he found there was inconsiderable. The royal army was close

upon him. At one moment he thought of fortifying the town; and

hundreds of labourers were summoned to dig trenches and throw up

mounds. Then his mind recurred to the plan of marching into

Cheshire, a plan which he had rejected as impracticable when he

was at Keynsham, and which assuredly was not more practicable now

that he was at Bridgewater.404


While he was thus wavering between projects equally hopeless, the

King's forces came in sight. They consisted of about two thousand

five hundred regular troops, and of about fifteen hundred of the

Wiltshire militia. Early on the morning of Sunday, the fifth of

July, they left Somerton, and pitched their tents that day about

three miles from Bridgewater, on the plain of Sedgemoor.


Dr. Peter Mew, Bishop of Winchester, accompanied them. This

prelate had in his youth borne arms for Charles the First against

the Parliament. Neither his years nor his profession had wholly

extinguished his martial ardour; and he probably thought that the

appearance of a father of the Protestant Church in the King's

camp might confirm the loyalty of some honest men who were

wavering between their horror of Popery and their horror of

rebellion.


The steeple of the parish church of Bridgewater is said to be the

loftiest of Somersetshire, and commands a wide view over the

surrounding country. Monmouth, accompanied by some of his

officers, went up to the top of the square tower from which the

spire ascends, and observed through a telescope the position of

the enemy. Beneath him lay a flat expanse, now rich with

cornfields and apple trees, but then, as its name imports, for

the most part a dreary morass. When the rains were heavy, and the

Parret and its tributary streams rose above their banks, this

tract was often flooded. It was indeed anciently part of that

great swamp which is renowned in our early chronicles as having

arrested the progress of two successive races of invaders, which

long protected the Celts against the aggressions of the kings of

Wessex, and which sheltered Alfred from the pursuit of the Danes.

In those remote times this region could be traversed only in

boats. It was a vast pool, wherein were scattered many islets of

shifting and treacherous soil, overhung with rank jungle, and

swarming with deer and wild swine. Even in the days of the

Tudors, the traveller whose journey lay from Ilchester to

Bridgewater was forced to make a circuit of several miles in

order to avoid the waters. When Monmouth looked upon Sedgemoor,

it had been partially reclaimed by art, and was intersected by

many deep and wide trenches which, in that country, are called

rhines. In the midst of the moor rose, clustering round the

towers of churches, a few villages of which the names seem to

indicate that they once were surrounded by waves. In one of these

villages, called Weston Zoyland, the royal cavalry lay; and

Feversham had fixed his headquarters there. Many persons still

living have seen the daughter of the servant girl who waited on

him that day at table; and a large dish of Persian ware, which

was set before him, is still carefully preserved in the

neighbourhood. It is to be observed that the population of

Somersetshire does not, like that of the manufacturing districts,

consist of emigrants from distant places. It is by no means

unusual to find farmers who cultivate the same land which their

ancestors cultivated when the Plantagenets reigned in England.

The Somersetshire traditions are therefore, of no small value to

a historian.405


At a greater distance from Bridgewater lies the village of

Middlezoy. In that village and its neighbourhood, the Wiltshire

militia were quartered, under the command of Pembroke. On the

open moor, not far from Chedzoy, were encamped several battalions

of regular infantry. Monmouth looked gloomily on them. He could

not but remember how, a few years before, he had, at the head of

a column composed of some of those very men, driven before him in

confusion the fierce enthusiasts who defended Bothwell Bridge He

could distinguish among the hostile ranks that gallant band which

was then called from the name of its Colonel, Dumbarton's

regiment, but which has long been known as the first of the line,

and which, in all the four quarters of the world, has nobly

supported its early reputation. "I know those men," said

Monmouth; "they will fight. If I had but them, all would go

well."406


Yet the aspect of the enemy was not altogether discouraging. The

three divisions of the royal army lay far apart from one another.

There was all appearance of negligence and of relaxed discipline

in all their movements. It was reported that they were drinking

themselves drunk with the Zoyland cider. The incapacity of

Feversham, who commanded in chief, was notorious. Even at this

momentous crisis he thought only of eating and sleeping.

Churchill was indeed a captain equal to tasks far more arduous

than that of scattering a crowd of ill armed and ill trained

peasants. But the genius, which, at a later period, humbled six

Marshals of France, was not now in its proper place. Feversham

told Churchill little, and gave him no encouragement to offer any

suggestion. The lieutenant, conscious of superior abilities and

science, impatient of the control of a chief whom he despised,

and trembling for the fate of the army, nevertheless preserved

his characteristic self-command, and dissembled his feelings so

well that Feversham praised his submissive alacrity, and promised

to report it to the King.407


Monmouth, having observed the disposition of the royal forces,

and having been apprised of the state in which they were,

conceived that a night attack might be attended with success. He

resolved to run the hazard; and preparations were instantly made.


It was Sunday; and his followers, who had, for the most part,

been brought up after the Puritan fashion, passed a great part of

the day in religious exercises. The Castle Field, in which the

army was encamped, presented a spectacle such as, since the

disbanding of Cromwell's soldiers, England had never seen. The

dissenting preachers who had taken arms against Popery, and some

of whom had probably fought in the great civil war, prayed and

preached in red coats and huge jackboots, with swords by their

sides. Ferguson was one of those who harangued. He took for his

text the awful imprecation by which the Israelites who dwelt

beyond Jordan cleared themselves from the charge ignorantly

brought against them by their brethren on the other side of the

river. "The Lord God of Gods, the Lord God of Gods, he knoweth;

and Israel he shall know. If it be in rebellion, or if in

transgression against the Lord, save us not this day."408


That an attack was to be made under cover of the night was no

secret