Chapter XXXII. Of the Onfall at Sedgemoor
However pressing our own private griefs and needs, we had little timenow to dwell upon them, for the moment was at hand which was to decidefor the time not only our own fates, but that of the Protestant causein England. None of us made light of the danger. Nothing less than amiracle could preserve us from defeat, and most of us were of opinionthat the days of the miracles were past. Others, however, thoughtotherwise. I believe that many of our Puritans, had they seen theheavens open that night, and the armies of the Seraphim and the Cherubimdescending to our aid, would have looked upon it as by no means awonderful or unexpected occurrence.
The whole town was loud with the preaching. Every troop or company hadits own chosen orator, and sometimes more than one, who held forthand expounded. From barrels, from waggons, from windows, and even fromhousetops, they addressed the crowds beneath; nor was their eloquencein vain. Hoarse, fierce shouts rose up from the streets, with brokenprayers and ejaculations. Men were drunk with religion as with wine.Their faces were flushed, their speech thick, their gestures wild. SirStephen and Saxon smiled at each other as they watched them, for theyknew, as old soldiers, that of all causes which make a man valiant indeed and careless of life, this religious fit is the strongest and themost enduring.
In the evening I found time to look in upon my wounded friend, and foundhim propped up with cushions upon his couch, breathing with some pain,but as bright and merry as ever. Our prisoner, Major Ogilvy, who hadconceived a warm affection for us, sat by his side and read aloud to himout of an old book of plays.
'This wound hath come at an evil moment,' said Reuben impatiently.'Is it not too much that a little prick like this should send my mencaptainless into battle, after all our marching and drilling? I havebeen present at the grace, and am cut off from the dinner.'
'Your company hath been joined to mine,' I answered, 'though, indeed,the honest fellows are cast down at not having their own captain. Hasthe physician been to see you?'
'He has left even now,' said Major Ogilvy. 'He pronounces our friend tobe doing right well, but hath warned me against allowing him to talk.'
'Hark to that, lad!' said I, shaking my finger at him. 'If I hear a wordfrom you I go. You will escape a rough waking this night, Major. Whatthink you of our chance?'
'I have thought little of your chance from the first,' he repliedfrankly. 'Monmouth is like a ruined gamester, who is now putting hislast piece upon the board. He cannot win much, and he may lose all.'
'Nay, that is a hard saying,' said I. 'A success might set the whole ofthe Midlands in arms.'
'England is not ripe for it,' the Major answered, with a shake of hishead. 'It is true that it has no fancy either for Papistry or for aPapist King, but we know that it is but a passing evil, since the nextin succession, the Prince of Orange, is a Protestant. Why, then, shouldwe risk so many evils to bring that about which time and patience must,perforce, accomplish between them? Besides, the man whom ye support hasshown that he is unworthy of confidence. Did he not in his declarationpromise to leave the choice of a monarch to the Commons? And yet, inless than a week, he proclaimed himself at Taunton Market Cross! Whocould believe one who has so little regard for truth?'
'Treason, Major, rank treason,' I answered, laughing. 'Yet if we couldorder a leader as one does a coat we might, perchance, have chosenone of a stronger texture. We are in arms not for him, but for the oldliberties and rights of Englishmen. Have you seen Sir Gervas?'
Major Ogilvy, and even Reuben, burst out laughing. 'You will find himin the room above,' said our prisoner. 'Never did a famous toast prepareherself for a court ball as he is preparing for his battle. If theKing's troops take him they will assuredly think that they have theDuke. He hath been in here to consult us as to his patches, hosen, and Iknow not what beside. You had best go up to him.'
'Adieu, then, Reuben!' I said, grasping his hand in mine.
'Adieu, Micah! God shield you from harm,' said he.
'Can I speak to you aside, Major?' I whispered. 'I think,' I went on,as he followed me into the passage, 'that you will not say that yourcaptivity hath been made very harsh for you. May I ask, therefore, thatyou will keep an eye upon my friend should we be indeed defeated thisnight? No doubt if Feversham gains the upper hand there will be bloodywork. The hale can look after themselves, but he is helpless, and willneed a friend.'
The Major pressed my hand. 'I swear to God,' he said, 'that no harmshall befall him.'
'You have taken a load from my heart,' I answered; 'I know that I leavehim in safety. 'I can now ride to battle with an easy mind.' With afriendly smile the soldier returned to the sick-room, whilst I ascendedthe stair and entered the quarters of Sir Gervas Jerome.
He was standing before a table which was littered all over with pots,brushes, boxes, and a score of the like trifles, which he had eitherbought or borrowed for the occasion. A large hand-mirror was balancedagainst the wall, with rush-lights on either side of it. In front ofthis, with a most solemn and serious expression upon his pale, handsomeface, the Baronet was arranging and re-arranging a white berdash cravat.His riding-boots were brightly polished, and the broken seam repaired.His sword-sheath, breastplate, and trappings were clear and bright.He wore his gayest and newest suit, and above all he had donned a mostnoble and impressive full-bottomed periwig, which drooped down to hisshoulders, as white as powder could make it. From his dainty riding-hatto his shining spur there was no speck or stain upon him--a sad set-offto my own state, plastered as I was with a thick crust of the Sedgemoormud, and disordered from having ridden and worked for two days withoutrest or repose.
'Split me, but you have come in good time!' he exclaimed, as I entered.'I have even now sent down for a flask of canary. Ah, and here itcomes!' as a maid from the inn tripped upstairs with the bottle andglasses. 'Here is a gold piece, my pretty dear, the very last that Ihave in the whole world. It is the only survivor of a goodly family. Paymine host for the wine, little one, and keep the change for thyself, tobuy ribbons for the next holiday. Now, curse me if I can get this cravatto fit unwrinkled!'
'There is nought amiss with it,' I answered. 'How can such triflesoccupy you at such a time?'
'Trifles!' he cried angrily. 'Trifles! Well, there, it boots not toargue with you. Your bucolic mind would never rise to the subtle importwhich may lie in such matters--the rest of mind which it is to havethem right, and the plaguey uneasiness when aught is wrong. It comes,doubtless, from training, and it may be that I have it more than othersof my class. I feel as a cat who would lick all day to take the leastspeck from her fur. Is not the patch over the eyebrow happily chosen?Nay, you cannot even offer an opinion; I would as soon ask friend Marot,the knight of the pistol. Fill up your glass!'
'Your company awaits you by the church,' I remarked; 'I saw them as Ipassed.'
'How looked they?' he asked. 'Were they powdered and clean?'
'Nay, I had little leisure to observe. I saw that they were cuttingtheir matches and arranging their priming.'
'I would that they had all snaphances,' he answered, sprinkling himselfwith scented water; 'the matchlocks are slow and cumbersome. Have youhad wine enough?'
'I will take no more,' I answered.
'Then mayhap the Major may care to finish it. It is not often I ask helpwith a bottle, but I would keep my head cool this night. Let us go downand see to our men.'
It was ten o'clock when we descended into the street. The hubbub ofthe preachers and the shouting of the people had died away, for theregiments had fallen into their places, and stood silent and stern,with the faint light from the lamps and windows playing over their darkserried ranks. A cool, clear moon shone down upon us from amidst fleecyclouds, which drifted ever and anon across her face. Away in the northtremulous rays of light flickered up into the heavens, coming and goinglike long, quivering fingers. They were the northern lights, a sightrarely seen in the southland counties. It is little wonder that, comingat such a time, the fanatics should have po
inted to them as signalsfrom another world, and should have compared them to that pillar of firewhich guided Israel through the dangers of the desert. The footpaths andthe windows were crowded with women and children, who broke into shrillcries of fear or of wonder as the strange light waxed and waned.
'It is half after ten by St. Mary's clock,' said Saxon, as we rode up tothe regiment. 'Have we nothing to give the men?'
'There is a hogshead of Zoyland cider in the yard of yonder inn,' saidSir Gervas. 'Here, Dawson, do you take those gold sleeve links and givethem to mine host in exchange. Broach the barrel, and let each man havehis horn full. Sink me, if they shall fight with nought but cold waterin them.'
'They will feel the need of it ere morning,' said Saxon, as a scoreof pikemen hastened off to the inn. 'The marsh air is chilling to theblood.'
'I feel cold already, and Covenant is stamping with it,' said I. 'Mightwe not, if we have time upon our hands, canter our horses down theline?'
'Of a surety,' Saxon answered gladly, 'we could not do better;' soshaking our bridles we rode off, our horses' hoofs striking fire fromthe flint-paved streets as we passed.
Behind the horse, in a long line which stretched from the Eastover gate,across the bridge, along the High Street, up the Cornhill, and so pastthe church to the Pig Cross, stood our foot, silent and grim, save whensome woman's voice from the windows called forth a deep, short answerfrom the ranks. The fitful light gleamed on scythes-blade or gun-barrel,and showed up the lines of rugged, hard set faces, some of mere childrenwith never a hair upon their cheeks, others of old men whose grey beardsswept down to their cross-belts, but all bearing the same stamp of adogged courage and a fierce self-contained resolution. Here were stillthe fisher folk of the south. Here, too, were the fierce men from theMendips, the wild hunters from Porlock Quay and Minehead, the poachersof Exmoor, the shaggy marshmen of Axbridge, the mountain men from theQuantocks, the serge and wool-workers of Devonshire, the graziers ofBampton, the red-coats from the Militia, the stout burghers of Taunton,and then, as the very bone and sinew of all, the brave smockfrockedpeasants of the plains, who had turned up their jackets to the elbow,and exposed their brown and corded arms, as was their wont when goodwork had to be done. As I speak to you, dear children, fifty yearsrolls by like a mist in the morning, and I am riding once more downthe winding street, and see again the serried ranks of my gallantcompanions. Brave hearts! They showed to all time how little training ittakes to turn an Englishman into a soldier, and what manner of men arebred in those quiet, peaceful hamlets which dot the sunny slopes of theSomerset and Devon downs. If ever it should be that England shouldbe struck upon her knees, if those who fight her battles should havedeserted her, and she should find herself unarmed in the presence of herenemy, let her take heart and remember that every village in the realmis a barrack, and that her real standing army is the hardy courage andsimple virtue which stand ever in the breast of the humblest of herpeasants.
As we rode down the long line a buzz of greeting and welcome rose nowand again from the ranks as they recognised through the gloom Saxon'stall, gaunt figure. The clock was on the stroke of eleven as we returnedto our own men, and at that very moment King Monmouth rode out from theinn where he was quartered, and trotted with his staff down the HighStreet. All cheering had been forbidden, but waving caps and brandishedarms spoke the ardour of his devoted followers. No bugle was to soundthe march, but as each received the word the one in its rear followedits movements. The clatter and shuffle of hundreds of moving feet camenearer and nearer, until the Frome men in front of us began to march,and we found ourselves fairly started upon the last journey which manyof us were ever to take in this world.
Our road lay across the Parret, through Eastover, and so along thewinding track past the spot where Derrick met his fate, and the lonelycottage of the little maid. At the other side of this the road becomesa mere pathway over the plain. A dense haze lay over the moor, gatheringthickly in the hollows, and veiling both the town which we had left andthe villages which we were approaching. Now and again it would liftfor a few moments, and then I could see in the moonlight the long blackwrithing line of the army, with the shimmer of steel playing over it,and the rude white standards flapping in the night breeze. Far on theright a great fire was blazing--some farmhouse, doubtless, which theTangiers devils had made spoil of. Very slow our march was, and verycareful, for the plain was, as Sir Stephen Timewell had told us, cutacross by great ditches or rhines, which could not be passed save atsome few places. These ditches were cut for the purpose of draining themarshes, and were many feet deep of water and of mud, so that eventhe horse could not cross them. The bridges were narrow, and some timepassed before the army could get over. At last, however, the two mainones, the Black Ditch and the Langmoor Rhine, were safely traversed anda halt was called while the foot was formed in line, for we had reasonto believe that no other force lay between the Royal camp and ourselves.So far our enterprise had succeeded admirably. We were within half amile of the camp without mistake or accident, and none of the enemy'sscouts had shown sign of their presence. Clearly they held us in suchcontempt that it had never occurred to them that we might open theattack. If ever a general deserved a beating it was Feversham thatnight. As he drew up upon the moor the clock of Chedzoy struck one.
'Is it not glorious?' whispered Sir Gervas, as we reined up upon thefurther side of the Langmoor Rhine. 'What is there on earth to comparewith the excitement of this?'
'You speak as though it wore a cocking-match or a bull-baiting, 'Ianswered, with some little coldness. 'It is a solemn and a sad occasion.Win who will, English blood must soak the soil of England this night.'
'The more room for those who are left,' said he lightly. 'Mark overyonder the glow of their camp-fires amidst the fog. What was it thatyour seaman friend did recommend? Get the weather-gauge of them andboard--eh? Have you told that to the Colonel?'
'Nay, this is no time for quips and cranks,' I answered gravely; 'thechances are that few of us will ever see to-morrow's sun rise.'
'I have no great curiosity to see it,' he remarked, with a laugh. 'Itwill be much as yesterday's. Zounds! though I have never risen to seeone in my life, I have looked on many a hundred ere I went to bed.'
'I have told friend Reuben such few things as I should desire to be donein case I should fall,' said I. 'It has eased my mind much to know thatI leave behind some word of farewell, and little remembrance to all whomI have known. Is there no service of the sort which I can do for you?'
'Hum!' said he, musing. 'If I go under, you can tell Araminta--nay, letthe poor wench alone! Why should I send her messages which may plagueher! Should you be in town, little Tommy Chichester would be glad tohear of the fun which we have had in Somerset. You will find him at theCoca Tree every day of the week between two and four of the clock. Thereis Mother Butterworth, too, whom I might commend to your notice. Shewas the queen of wet-nurses, but alas! cruel time hath dried up herbusiness, and she hath need of some little nursing herself.'
'If I live and you should fall, I shall do what may be done for her,'said I. 'Have you aught else to say?'
'Only that Hacker of Paul's Yard is the best for vests,' he answered.'It is a small piece of knowledge, yet like most other knowledge it hathbeen bought and paid for. One other thing! I have a trinket or two leftwhich might serve as a gift for the pretty Puritan maid, should ourfriend lead her to the altar. Od's my life, but she will make him readsome queer books! How now, Colonel, why are we stuck out on the moorlike a row of herons among the sedges?'
'They are ordering the line for the attack,' said Saxon, who had riddenup during our conversation. 'Donnerblitz! Who ever saw a camp soexposed to an onfall? Oh for twelve hundred good horse--for an hour ofWessenburg's Pandours! Would I not trample them down until their campwas like a field of young corn after a hail-storm!'
'May not our horse advance?' I asked.
The old soldier gave a deep snort of disdain. 'If this fight is to bewon it must be by our foot,'
said he; 'what can we hope for from suchcavalry? Keep your men well in hand, for we may have to bear the bruntof the King's dragoons. A flank attack would fall upon us, for we are inthe post of honour.'
'There are troops to the right of us,' I answered, peering through thedarkness.
'Aye! the Taunton burghers and the Frome peasants. Our brigade coversthe right flank. Next us are the Mendip miners, nor could I wish forbetter comrades, if their zeal do not outrun their discretion. They areon their knees in the mud at this moment.'
'They will fight none the worse for that,' I remarked; 'but surely thetroops are advancing!'
'Aye, aye!' cried Saxon joyously, plucking out his sword, and tyinghis handkerchief round the handle to strengthen his grip. 'The hour hascome! Forwards!'
Very slowly and silently we crept on through the dense fog, our feetsplashing and slipping in the sodden soil. With all the care whichwe could take, the advance of so great a number of men could not beconducted without a deep sonorous sound from the thousands of marchingfeet. Ahead of us were splotches of ruddy light twinkling through thefog which marked the Royal watch-fires. Immediately in front in a densecolumn our own horse moved forwards. Of a sudden out of the darknessthere came a sharp challenge and a shout, with the discharge of acarbine and the sound of galloping hoofs. Away down the line we hearda ripple of shots. The first line of outposts had been reached. At thealarm our horse charged forward with a huzza, and we followed them asfast as our men could run. We had crossed two or three hundred yards ofmoor, and could hear the blowing of the Royal bugles quite close to us,when our horse came to a sudden halt, and our whole advance was at astandstill.
'Sancta Maria!' cried Saxon, dashing forward with the rest of us to findout the cause of the delay. 'We must on at any cost! A halt now willruin our camisado.'
'Forwards, forwards!' cried Sir Gervas and I, waving our swords.
'It is no use, gentlemen,' cried a cornet of horse, wringing his hands;'we are undone and betrayed. There is a broad ditch without a ford infront of us, full twenty feet across!'
'Give me room for my horse, and I shall show ye the way across!' criedthe Baronet, backing his steed. 'Now, lads, who's for a jump?'
'Nay, sir, for God's sake!' said a trooper, laying his hand upon hisbridle. 'Sergeant Sexton hath sprung in even now, and horse and man havegone to the bottom!'
'Let us see it, then!' cried Saxon, pushing his way through the crowdof horsemen. We followed close at his heels, until we found ourselves onthe borders of the vast trench which impeded our advance.
To this day I have never been able to make up my mind whether it wasby chance or by treachery on the part of our guides that this fosse wasoverlooked until we stumbled upon it in the dark. There are some who saythat the Bussex Rhine, as it is called, is not either deep or broad,and was, therefore, unmentioned by the moorsmen, but that the recentconstant rains had swollen it to an extent never before known. Otherssay that the guides had been deceived by the fog, and taken a wrongcourse, whereas, had we followed another track, we might have been ableto come upon the camp without crossing the ditch. However that may be,it is certain that we found it stretching in front of us, broad, black,and forbidding, full twenty feet from bank to bank, with the cap of theill-fated sergeant just visible in the centre as a mute warning to allwho might attempt to ford it.
'There must be a passage somewhere,' cried Saxon furiously. 'Everymoment is worth a troop of horse to them. Where is my Lord Grey? Haththe guide met with his deserts?'
'Major Hollis hath hurled the guide into the ditch,' the young cornetanswered. 'My Lord Grey hath ridden along the bank seeking for a ford.'
I caught a pike out of a footman's hand, and probed into the blackoozy mud, standing myself up to the waist in it, and holding Covenant'sbridle in my left hand. Nowhere could I touch bottom or find any hope ofsolid foothold.
'Here, fellow!' cried Saxon, seizing a trooper by the arm. 'Make forthe rear! Gallop as though the devil were behind you! Bring up a pairof ammunition waggons, and we shall see whether we cannot bridge thisinfernal puddle.'
'If a few of us could make a lodgment upon the other side we might makeit good until help came,' said Sir Gervas, as the horseman galloped offupon his mission.
All down the rebel line a fierce low roar of disappointment and rageshowed that the whole army had met the same obstacle which hinderedour attack. On the other side of the ditch the drums beat, the buglesscreamed, and the shouts and oaths of the officers could be heard asthey marshalled their men. Glancing lights in Chedzoy, Westonzoyland,and the other hamlets to left and right, showed how fast the alarmwas extending. Decimus Saxon rode up and down the edge of the fosse,pattering forth foreign oaths, grinding his teeth in his fury, andrising now and again in his stirrups to shake his gauntleted hands atthe enemy.
'For whom are ye?' shouted a hoarse voice out of the haze.
'For the King!' roared the peasants in answer.
'For which King?' cried the voice.
'For King Monmouth!'
'Let them have it, lads!' and instantly a storm of musket bulletswhistled and sung about our ears. As the sheet of flame sprang out ofthe darkness the maddened, half-broken horses dashed wildly away acrossthe plain, resisting the efforts of the riders to pull them up. Thereare some, indeed, who say that those efforts were not very strong, andthat our troopers, disheartened at the check at the ditch, were notsorry to show their heels to the enemy. As to my Lord Grey, I can saytruly that I saw him in the dim light among the flying squadrons, doingall that a brave cavalier could do to bring them to a stand. Away theywent, however, thundering through the ranks of the foot and out over themoor, leaving their companions to bear the whole brunt of the battle.
'On to your faces, men!' shouted Saxon, in a voice which rose high abovethe crash of the musketry and the cries of the wounded. The pikemen andscythesmen threw themselves down at his command, while the musqueteersknelt in front of them, loading and firing, with nothing to aim at savethe burning matches of the enemy's pieces, which could be seen twinklingthrough the darkness. All along, both to the right and the left, arolling fire had broken out, coming in short, quick volleys from thesoldiers, and in a continuous confused rattle from the peasants. On thefurther wing our four guns had been brought into play, and we could heartheir dull growling in the distance.
'Sing, brothers, sing!' cried our stout-hearted chaplain, Master JoshuaPettigrue, bustling backwards and forwards among the prostrate ranks.'Let us call upon the Lord in our day of trial!' The men raised a loudhymn of praise, which swelled into a great chorus as it was taken up bythe Taunton burghers upon our right and the miners upon our left. Atthe sound the soldiers on the other side raised a fierce huzza, and thewhole air was full of clamour.
Our musqueteers had been brought to the very edge of the Bussex Rhine,and the Royal troops had also advanced as far as they were able, so thatthere were not five pikes'-lengths between the lines. Yet that shortdistance was so impassable that, save for the more deadly fire, aquarter of a mile might have divided us. So near were we that theburning wads from the enemy's muskets flew in flakes of fire overour heads, and we felt upon our faces the hot, quick flush of theirdischarges. Yet though the air was alive with bullets, the aim of thesoldiers was too high for our kneeling ranks, and very few of the menwere struck. For our part, we did what we could to keep the barrels ofour muskets from inclining upwards. Saxon, Sir Gervas, and I walkedour horses up and down without ceasing, pushing them level with oursword-blades, and calling on the men to aim steadily and slowly. Thegroans and cries from the other side of the ditch showed that some, atleast, of our bullets had not been fired in vain.
'We hold our own in this quarter,' said I to Saxon. 'It seems to me thattheir fire slackens.'
'It is their horse that I fear,' he answered. 'They can avoid the ditch,since they come from the hamlets on the flank. They may be upon us atany time.'
'Hullo, sir!' shouted Sir Gervas, reining up his steed upon the verybrink of the ditch, and rais
ing his cap in salute to a mounted officerupon the other side. 'Can you tell me if we have the honour to beopposed to the foot guards?'
'We are Dumbarton's regiment, sir,' cried the other. 'We shall give yegood cause to remember having met us.'
'We shall be across presently to make your further acquaintance,' SirGervas answered, and at the same moment rolled, horse and all, into theditch, amid a roar of exultation from the soldiers. Half-a-dozen of hismusqueteers sprang instantly, waist deep, into the mud, and dragged ourfriend out of danger, but the charger, which had been shot through theheart, sank without a struggle.
'There is no harm!' cried the Baronet, springing to his feet, 'I wouldrather fight on foot like my brave musqueteers.' The men broke outa-cheering at his words, and the fire on both sides became hotterthan ever. It was a marvel to me, and to many more, to see these bravepeasants with their mouths full of bullets, loading, priming, and firingas steadily as though they had been at it all their lives, and holdingtheir own against a veteran regiment which has proved itself in otherfields to be second to none in the army of England.
The grey light of morning was stealing over the moor, and still thefight was undecided. The fog hung about us in feathery streaks, andthe smoke from our guns drifted across in a dun-coloured cloud, throughwhich the long lines of red coats upon the other side of the rhineloomed up like a battalion of giants. My eyes ached and my lips prinkledwith the smack of the powder. On every side of me men were falling fast,for the increased light had improved the aim of the soldiers. Our goodchaplain, in the very midst of a psalm, had uttered a great shoutof praise and thanksgiving, and so passed on to join those of hisparishioners who were scattered round him upon the moor. Hope-aboveWilliams and Keeper Milson, under-officers, and among the stoutestmen in the company, were both down, the one dead and the other sorelywounded, but still ramming down charges, and spitting bullets into hisgun-barrel. The two Stukeleys of Somerton, twins, and lads of greatpromise, lay silently with grey faces turned to the grey sky, united indeath as they had been in birth. Everywhere the dead lay thick amid theliving. Yet no man flinched from his place, and Saxon still walkedhis horse among them with words of hope and praise, while his stern,deep-lined face and tall sinewy figure were a very beacon of hope tothe simple rustics. Such of my scythesmen as could handle a musket werethrown forward into the fighting line, and furnished with the arms andpouches of those who had fallen.
Ever and anon as the light waxed I could note through the rifts in thesmoke and the fog how the fight was progressing in other parts of thefield. On the right the heath was brown with the Taunton and Fromemen, who, like ourselves, were lying down to avoid the fire. Along theborders of the Bussex Rhine a deep fringe of their musqueteers wereexchanging murderous volleys, almost muzzle to muzzle, with theleft wing of the same regiment with which we were engaged, which wassupported by a second regiment in broad white facings, which I believeto have belonged to the Wiltshire Militia. On either bank of the blacktrench a thick line of dead, brown on the one side, and scarlet on theother, served as a screen to their companions, who sheltered themselvesbehind them and rested their musket-barrels upon their prostrate bodies.To the left amongst the withies lay five hundred Mendip and Bagworthyminers, singing lustily, but so ill-armed that they had scarce one gunamong ten wherewith to reply to the fire which was poured into them.They could not advance, and they would not retreat, so they shelteredthemselves as best they might, and waited patiently until their leadersmight decide what was to be done. Further down for half a mile or morethe long rolling cloud of smoke, with petulant flashes of flame spurtingout through it, showed that every one of our raw regiments was bearingits part manfully. The cannon on the left had ceased firing. The Dutchgunners had left the Islanders to settle their own quarrels, and werescampering back to Bridgewater, leaving their silent pieces to the RoyalHorse.
The battle was in this state when there rose a cry of 'The King, theKing!' and Monmouth rode through our ranks, bare-headed and wild-eyed,with Buyse, Wade, and a dozen more beside him. They pulled up within aspear's-length of me, and Saxon, spurring forward to meet them, raisedhis sword to the salute. I could not but mark the contrast betweenthe calm, grave face of the veteran, composed yet alert, and the halffrantic bearing of the man whom we were compelled to look upon as ourleader.
'How think ye, Colonel Saxon?' he cried wildly. 'How goes the fight? Isall well with ye? What an error, alas! what an error! Shall we draw off,eh? How say you?'
'We hold our own here, your Majesty,' Saxon answered. 'Methinks had wesomething after the nature of palisados or stockados, after the Swedishfashion, we might even make it good against the horse.'
'Ah, the horse!' cried the unhappy Monmouth. 'If we get over this, myLord Grey shall answer for it. They ran like a flock of sheep. Whatleader could do anything with such troops? Oh, lack-a-day, lack-a-day!Shall we not advance?'
'There is no reason to advance, your Majesty, now that the surprise hasfailed,' said Saxon. 'I had sent for carts to bridge over the trench,according to the plan which is commended in the treatise, "De vallis etfossis," but they are useless now. We can but fight it out as we are.'
'To throw troops across would be to sacrifice them,' said Wade. 'We havelost heavily, Colonel Saxon, but I think from the look of yonder bankthat ye have given a good account of the red-coats.'
'Stand firm! For God's sake, stand firm!' cried Monmouth distractedly.'The horse have fled, and the cannoniers also. Oh! what can I do withsuch men? What shall I do? Alas, alas!' He set spurs to his horse andgalloped off down the line, still ringing his hands and uttering hisdismal wailings. Oh, my children, how small, how very small a thing isdeath when weighed in the balance with dishonour! Had this man but bornehis fate silently, as did the meanest footman who followed his banners,how proud and glad would we have been to have discoursed of him, ourprincely leader. But let him rest. The fears and agitations and pettyfond emotions, which showed upon him as the breeze shows upon the water,are all stilled now for many a long year. Let us think of the kind heartand forget the feeble spirit.
As his escort trooped after him, the great German man-at-arms separatedfrom them and turned back to us. 'I am weary of trotting up and downlike a lust-ritter at a fair,' said he. 'If I bide with ye I am like tohave my share of any fighting which is going. So, steady, mein Liebchen.That ball grazed her tail, but she is too old a soldier to wince attrifles. Hullo, friend, where is your horse?'
'At the bottom of the ditch,' said Sir Gervas, scraping the mud off hisdress with his sword-blade. ''Tis now half-past two,' he continued,'and we have been at this child's-play for an hour and more. With a lineregiment, too! It is not what I had looked forward to!'
'You shall have something to console you anon,' cried the German, withhis eyes shining. 'Mein Gott! Is it not splendid? Look to it, friendSaxon, look to it!'
It was no light matter which had so roused the soldier's admiration. Outof the haze which still lay thick upon our right there twinkled here andthere a bright gleam of silvery light, while a dull, thundering noisebroke upon our ears like that of the surf upon a rocky shore. More andmore frequent came the fitful flashes of steel, louder and yet loudergrew the hoarse gathering tumult, until of a sudden the fog was rent,and the long lines of the Royal cavalry broke out from it, wave afterwave, rich in scarlet and blue and gold, as grand a sight as ever theeye rested upon. There was something in the smooth, steady sweep of sogreat a body of horsemen which gave the feeling of irresistible power.Rank after rank, and line after line, with waving standards, tossingmanes, and gleaming steel, they poured onwards, an army in themselves,with either flank still shrouded in the mist. As they thundered along,knee to knee and bridle to bridle, there came from them such a gust ofdeep-chested oaths with the jangle of harness, the clash of steel, andthe measured beat of multitudinous hoofs, that no man who hath not stoodup against such a whirlwind, with nothing but a seven-foot pike in hishand, can know how hard it is to face it with a steady lip and a firmgrip.
But
wonderful as was the sight, there was, as ye may guess, mydears, little time for us to gaze upon it. Saxon and the German flungthemselves among the pikemen and did all that men could do to thickentheir array. Sir Gervas and I did the same with the scythesmen, who hadbeen trained to form a triple front after the German fashion, one rankkneeling, one stooping, and one standing erect, with weapons advanced.Close to us the Taunton men had hardened into a dark sullen ring,bristling with steel, in the centre of which might be seen and heardtheir venerable Mayor, his long beard fluttering in the breeze, and hisstrident voice clanging over the field. Louder and louder grew the roarof the horse. 'Steady, my brave lads,' cried Saxon, in trumpet tones.'Dig the pike-butt into the earth! Best it on the right foot! Give notan inch! Steady!' A great shout went up from either side, and then theliving wave broke over us.
What hope is there to describe such a scene as that--the crashing ofwood, the sharp gasping cries, the snorting of horses, the jar when thepush of pike met with the sweep of sword! Who can hope to makeanother see that of which he himself carries away so vague and dim animpression? One who has acted in such a scene gathers no general senseof the whole combat, such as might be gained by a mere onlooker, buthe has stamped for ever upon his mind just the few incidents which maychance to occur before his own eyes. Thus my memories are confined to aswirl of smoke with steel caps and fierce, eager faces breaking throughit, with the red gaping nostrils of horses and their pawing fore-feetas they recoiled from the hedge of steel. I see, too, a young beardlesslad, an officer of dragoons, crawling on hands and knees under thescythes, and I hear his groan as one of the peasants pinned him to theground. I see a bearded, broad-faced trooper riding a grey horse justoutside the fringe of the scythes, seeking for some entrance, andscreaming the while with rage. Small things imprint themselves upon aman's notice at such a time. I even marked the man's strong white teethand pink gums. At the same time I see a white-faced, thin-lipped manleaning far forward over his horse's neck and driving at me with hissword point, cursing the while as only a dragoon can curse. All theseimages start up as I think of that fierce rally, during which I hackedand cut and thrust at man and horse without a thought of parry orof guard. All round rose a fierce babel of shouts and cries, godlyejaculations from the peasants and oaths from the horsemen, with Saxon'svoice above all imploring his pikemen to stand firm. Then the cloudof horse-men recoiled, circling off over the plain, and the shout oftriumph from my comrades, and an open snuff-box thrust out in front ofme, proclaimed that we had seen the back of as stout a squadron as everfollowed a kettledrum.
But if we could claim it as a victory, the army in general could scarcesay as much. None but the very pick of the troops could stand againstthe flood of heavy horses and steel-clad men. The Frome peasants weregone, swept utterly from the field. Many had been driven by pure weightand pressure into the fatal mud which had checked our advance. Manyothers, sorely cut and slashed, lay in ghastly heaps all over the groundwhich they had held. A few by joining our ranks had saved themselvesfrom the fate of their companions. Further off the men of Taunton stillstood fast, though in sadly diminished numbers. A long ridge of horsesand cavaliers in front of them showed how stern had been the attack andhow fierce the resistance. On our left the wild miners had been brokenat the first rush, but had fought so savagely, throwing themselves uponthe ground and stabbing upwards at the stomachs of the horses, that theyhad at last beaten off the dragoons. The Devonshire militiamen, however,had been scattered, and shared the fate of the men of Frome. During thewhole of the struggle the foot upon the further bank of the Bussex Rhinewere pouring in a hail of bullets, which our musqueteers, having todefend themselves against the horse, were unable to reply to.
It needed no great amount of soldierly experience to see that the battlewas lost, and that Monmouth's cause was doomed. It was broad daylightnow, though the sun had not yet risen. Our cavalry was gone, ourordnance was silent, our line was pierced in many places, and more thanone of our regiments had been destroyed. On the right flank the HorseGuards Blue, the Tangiers Horse, and two dragoon regiments were formingup for a fresh attack. On the left the foot-guards had bridged the ditchand were fighting hand to hand with the men from North Somerset. Infront a steady fire was being poured into us, to which our reply wasfeeble and uncertain, for the powder carts had gone astray in the dark,and many were calling hoarsely for ammunition, while others were loadingwith pebbles instead of ball. Add to this that the regiments which stillheld their ground had all been badly shaken by the charge, and had losta third of their number. Yet the brave clowns sent up cheer after cheer,and shouted words of encouragement and homely jests to each other,as though a battle were but some rough game which must as a matter ofcourse be played out while there was a player left to join in it.
'Is Captain Clarke there?' cried Decimus Saxon, riding up with hissword-arm flecked with blood. 'Ride over to Sir Stephen Timewell andtell him to join his men to ours. Apart we shall be broken--together wemay stand another charge.'
Setting spurs to Covenant I rode over to our companions and deliveredthe message. Sir Stephen, who had been struck by a petronel bullet,and wore a crimsoned kerchief bound round his snow-white head, sawthe wisdom of the advice, and moved his townsmen as directed. Hismusqueteers being better provided with powder than ours did good serviceby keeping down for a time the deadly fire from across the fosse.
'Who would have thought it of him?' cried Sir Stephen, with flashingeyes, as Buyse and Saxon rode out to meet him. 'What think ye now of ournoble monarch, our champion of the Protestant cause?'
'He is no very great Krieger,' said Buyse. 'Yet perhaps it may be fromwant of habit as much as from want of courage.'
'Courage!' cried the old Mayor, in a voice of scorn. 'Look over yonderand behold your King.' He pointed out over the moor with a fingerwhich shook as much from anger as from age. There, far away, showingup against the dark peat-coloured soil, rode a gaily-dressed cavalier,followed by a knot of attendants, galloping as fast as his horse wouldcarry him from the field of battle. There was no mistaking the fugitive.It was the recreant Monmouth.
'Hush!' cried Saxon, as we all gave a cry of horror and execration;'do not dishearten our brave lads! Cowardice is catching and will runthrough an army like the putrid fever.'
'Der Feigherzige!' cried Buyse, grinding his teeth. 'And the bravecountry folk! It is too much.'
'Stand to your pikes, men!' roared Saxon, in a voice of thunder, andwe had scarce time to form our square and throw ourselves inside of it,before the whirlwind of horse was upon us once more. When the Tauntonmen had joined us a weak spot had been left in our ranks, and throughthis in an instant the Blue Guards smashed their way, pouring throughthe opening, and cutting fiercely to right and left. The burghers on theone side and our own men on the other replied by savage stabs from theirpikes and scythes, which emptied many a saddle, but while the strugglewas at its hottest the King's cannon opened for the first time with adeafening roar upon the other side of the rhine, and a storm of ballsploughed their way through our dense ranks, leaving furrows of deadand wounded behind them. At the same moment a great cry of 'Powder! ForChrist's sake, powder!' arose from the musqueteers whose last charge hadbeen fired. Again the cannon roared, and again our men were mowed downas though Death himself with his scythe were amongst us. At last ourranks were breaking. In the very centre of the pikemen steel caps weregleaming, and broadswords rising and falling. The whole body was sweptback two hundred paces or more, struggling furiously the while, andwas there mixed with other like bodies which had been dashed out of allsemblance of military order, and yet refused to fly. Men of Devon, ofDorset, of Wiltshire, and of Somerset, trodden down by horse, slashed bydragoons, dropping by scores under the rain of bullets, still fought onwith a dogged, desperate courage for a ruined cause and a man whohad deserted them. Everywhere as I glanced around me were set faces,clenched teeth, yells of rage and defiance, but never a sound of fearor of submission. Some clambered up upon the cruppers of the riders anddragged the
m backwards from their saddles. Others lay upon their facesand hamstrung the chargers with their scythe-blades, stabbing thehorsemen before they could disengage themselves. Again and again theguards crashed through them from side to side, and yet the shatteredranks closed up behind them and continued the long-drawn struggle. Sohopeless was it and so pitiable that I could have found it in my heartto wish that they would break and fly, were it not that on the broadmoor there was no refuge which they could make for. And all this time,while they struggled and fought, blackened with powder and parched withthirst, spilling their blood as though it were water, the man who calledhimself their King was spurring over the countryside with a loose reinand a quaking heart, his thoughts centred upon saving his own neck, comewhat might to his gallant followers.
Large numbers of the foot fought to the death, neither giving norreceiving quarter; but at last, scattered, broken, and withoutammunition, the main body of the peasants dispersed and fled across themoor, closely followed by the horse. Saxon, Buyse, and I had done allthat we could to rally them once more, and had cut down some of theforemost of the pursuers, when my eye fell suddenly upon Sir Gervas,standing hatless with a few of his musqueteers in the midst of a swarmof dragoons. Spurring our horses we cut a way to his rescue, and laidour swords about us until we had cleared off his assailants for themoment.
'Jump up behind me!' I cried. 'We can make good our escape.'
He looked up smiling and shook his head. 'I stay with my company,' saidhe.
'Your company!' Saxon cried. 'Why, man, you are mad! Your company is cutoff to the last man.'
'That's what I mean,' he answered, flicking some dirt from his cravat.'Don't ye mind! Look out for yourselves. Goodbye, Clarke! Present mycompliments to--' The dragoons charged down upon us again. We were allborne backwards, fighting desperately, and when we could look round theBaronet was gone for ever. We heard afterwards that the King's troopsfound upon the field a body which they mistook for that of Monmouth, onaccount of the effeminate grace of the features and the richness of theattire. No doubt it was that of our undaunted friend, Sir Gervas Jerome,a name which shall ever be dear to my heart. When, ten years afterwards,we heard much of the gallantry of the young courtiers of the householdof the French King, and of the sprightly courage with which they foughtagainst us in the Lowlands at Steinkirk and elsewhere, I have alwaysthought, from my recollection of Sir Gervas, that I knew what manner ofmen they were.
And now it was every man for himself. In no part of the field didthe insurgents continue to resist. The first rays of the sun shiningslantwise across the great dreary plain lit up the long line of thescarlet battalions, and glittered upon the cruel swords which rose andfell among the struggling drove of resistless fugitives. The German hadbecome separated from us in the tumult, and we knew not whether he livedor was slain, though long afterwards we learned that he made good hisescape, only to be captured with the ill-fated Duke of Monmouth. Grey,Wade, Ferguson, and others had contrived also to save themselves, whileStephen Timewell lay in the midst of a stern ring of his hard-facedburghers, dying as he had lived, a gallant Puritan Englishman. All thiswe learned afterwards. At present we rode for our lives across the moor,followed by a few scattered bodies of horse, who soon abandoned theirpursuit in order to fasten upon some more easy prey.
We were passing a small clump of alder bushes when a loud manly voiceraised in prayer attracted our attention. Pushing aside the branches, wecame upon a man, seated with his back up against a great stone, cuttingat his own arm with a broad-bladed knife, and giving forth the Lord'sprayer the while, without a pause or a quiver in his tone. As he glancedup from his terrible task we both recognised him as one Hollis, whom Ihave mentioned as having been with Cromwell at Dunbar. His arm hadbeen half severed by a cannon-ball, and he was quietly completing theseparation in order to free himself from the dangling and useless limb.Even Saxon, used as he was to all the forms and incidents of war, staredopen-eyed and aghast at this strange surgery; but the man, with a shortnod of recognition, went grimly forward with his task, until, even aswe gazed, he separated the last shred which held it, and lay over withblanched lips which still murmured the prayer. (1) We could do littleto help him, and, indeed, might by our halt attract his pursuers to hishiding-place; so, throwing him down my flask half filled with water, wehastened on upon our way. Oh, war, my children, what a terrible thing itis! How are men cozened and cheated by the rare trappings and prancingsteeds, by the empty terms of honour and of glory, until they forgetin the outward tinsel and show the real ghastly horror of the accursedthing! Think not of the dazzling squadrons, nor of the spirit-stirringblare of the trumpets, but think of that lonely man under the shadow ofthe alders, and of what he was doing in a Christian age and a Christianland. Surely I, who have grown grey in harness, and who have seen asmany fields as I have years of my life, should be the last to preachupon this subject, and yet I can clearly see that, in honesty, men musteither give up war, or else they must confess that the words of theRedeemer are too lofty for them, and that there is no longer any use inpretending that His teaching can be reduced to practice. I have seen aChristian minister blessing a cannon which had just been founded, andanother blessing a war-ship as it glided from the slips. They,the so-called representatives of Christ, blessed these engines ofdestruction which cruel man has devised to destroy and tear hisfellow-worms. What would we say if we read in Holy Writ of our Lordhaving blessed the battering-rams and the catapults of the legions?Would we think that it was in agreement with His teaching? But there!As long as the heads of the Church wander away so far from the spirit ofits teaching as to live in palaces and drive in carriages, what wonderif, with such examples before them, the lower clergy overstep at timesthe lines laid down by their great Master?
Looking back from the summit of the low hills which lie to the westwardof the moor, we could see the cloud of horse-men streaming over thebridge of the Parret and into the town of Bridgewater, with the helplessdrove of fugitives still flying in front of them. We had pulled up ourhorses, and were looking sadly and silently back at the fatal plain,when the thud of hoofs fell upon our ears, and, turning round, we foundtwo horsemen in the dress of the guards riding towards us. They had madea circuit to cut us off, for they were riding straight for us with drawnswords and eager gestures.
'More slaughter,' I said wearily. 'Why will they force us to it?'
Saxon glanced keenly from beneath his drooping lids at the approachinghorsemen, and a grim smile wreathed his face in a thousand lines andwrinkles.
'It is our friend who set the hounds upon our track at Salisbury,' hesaid. 'This is a happy meeting. I have a score to settle with him.'
It was, indeed, the hot-headed young comet whom we had met at the outsetof our adventures. Some evil chance had led him to recognise the tallfigure of my companion as we rode from the field, and to follow him, inthe hope of obtaining revenge for the humiliation which he had met withat his hands. The other was a lance-corporal, a man of square soldierlybuild, riding a heavy black horse with a white blaze upon its forehead.
Saxon rode slowly towards the officer, while the trooper and I fixed oureyes upon each other.
'Well, boy,' I heard my companion say, 'I trust that you have learned tofence since we met last.'
The young guardsman gave a snarl of rage at the taunt, and an instantafterwards the clink of their sword-blades showed that they had met.For my own part I dared not spare a glance upon them, for my opponentattacked me with such fury that it was all that I could do to keep himoff. No pistol was drawn upon either side. It was an honest contest ofsteel against steel. So constant were the corporal's thrusts, now at myface, now at my body, that I had never an opening for one of the heavycuts which might have ended the matter. Our horses spun round eachother, biting and pawing, while we thrust and parried, until at last,coming together knee to knee, we found ourselves within sword-point, andgrasped each other by the throat. He plucked a dagger from his belt andstruck it into my left arm, but I dealt him a blow with
my gauntletedhand, which smote him off his horse and stretched him speechless uponthe plain. Almost at the same moment the cornet dropped from his horse,wounded in several places. Saxon sprang from his saddle, and picking thesoldier's dagger from the ground, would have finished them both had Inot jumped down also and restrained him. He flashed round upon me withso savage a face that I could see that the wild-beast nature within himwas fairly roused.
'What hast thou to do?' he snarled. 'Let go!'
'Nay, nay! Blood enough hath been shed,' said I. 'Let them lie.'
'What mercy would they have had upon us?' he cried passionately,struggling to get his wrist free. 'They have lost, and must payforfeit.'
'Not in cold blood,' I said firmly. 'I shall not abide it.'
'Indeed, your lordship,' he sneered, with the devil peeping out throughhis eyes. With a violent wrench he freed himself from my grasp, andspringing back, picked up the sword which he had dropped.
'What then?' I asked, standing on my guard astride of the wounded man.
He stood for a minute or more looking at me from under his heavy-hungbrows, with his whole face writhing with passion. Every instant Iexpected that he would fly at me, but at last, with a gulp in histhroat, he sheathed his rapier with a sharp clang, and sprang back intothe saddle.
'We part here,' he said coldly. 'I have twice been on the verge ofslaying you, and the third time might be too much for my patience. Youare no fit companion for a cavalier of fortune. Join the clergy, lad; itis your vocation.'
'Is this Decimus Saxon who speaks, or is it Will Spotterbridge?' Iasked, remembering his jest concerning his ancestry, but no answeringsmile came upon his rugged face. Gathering up his bridle in his lefthand, he shot one last malignant glance at the bleeding officer, andgalloped off along one of the tracks which lead to the southward. Istood gazing after him, but he never sent so much as a hand-wave back,riding on with a rigid neck until he vanished in a dip in the moor.
'There goes one friend,' thought I sadly, 'and all forsooth because Iwill not stand by and see a helpless man's throat cut. Another friend isdead on the field. A third, the oldest and dearest of all, lies woundedat Bridgewater, at the mercy of a brutal soldiery. If I return to myhome I do but bring trouble and danger to those whom I love. Whithershall I turn?' For some minutes I stood irresolute beside the prostrateguardsmen, while Covenant strolled slowly along cropping the scantyherbage, and turning his dark full eyes towards me from time to time, asthough to assure me that one friend at least was steadfast. Northward Ilooked at the Polden Hills, southwards, at the Blackdowns, westwardat the long blue range of the Quantocks, and eastward at the broad fencountry; but nowhere could I see any hope of safety. Truth to say, Ifelt sick at heart and cared little for the time whether I escaped orno.
A muttered oath followed by a groan roused me from my meditations.The corporal was sitting up rubbing his head with a look of stupidastonishment upon his face, as though he were not very sure either ofwhere he was or how he came there. The officer, too, had opened hiseyes and shown other signs of returning consciousness. His wounds wereclearly of no very serious nature. There was no danger of their pursuingme even should they wish to do so, for their horses had trotted off tojoin the numerous other riderless steeds who were wandering all over themoorlands. I mounted, therefore, and rode slowly away, saving my goodcharger as much as possible, for the morning's work had already toldsomewhat heavily upon him.
There were many scattered bodies of horse riding hither and thither overthe marshes, but I was able to avoid them, and trotted onwards, keepingto the waste country until I found myself eight or ten miles from thebattlefield. The few cottages and houses which I passed wore deserted,and many of them bore signs of having been plundered. Not a peasant wasto be seen. The evil fame of Kirke's lambs had chased away all those whohad not actually taken arms. At last, after riding for three hours, Ibethought me that I was far enough from the main line of pursuit tobe free from danger, so I chose out a sheltered spot where a clump ofbushes overhung a little brook. There, seated upon a bank of velvetmoss, I rested my weary limbs, and tried to wash the stains of battlefrom my person.
It was only now when I could look quietly at my own attire that it wasbrought home to me how terrible the encounter must have been in whichI had been engaged, and how wonderful it was that I had come off soscatheless. Of the blows which I had struck in the fight I had faintremembrance, yet they must have been many and terrible, for my swordedge was as jagged and turned as though I had hacked for an hour at aniron bar. From head to foot I was splashed and crimsoned with blood,partly my own, but mostly that of others. My headpiece was dinted withblows. A petronel bullet had glanced off my front plate, striking itat an angle, and had left a broad groove across it. Two or three othercracks and stars showed where the good sheet of proof steel had savedme. My left arm was stiff and well-nigh powerless from the corporal'sstab, but on stripping off my doublet and examining the place, I foundthat though there had been much bleeding the wound was on the outer sideof the bone, and was therefore of no great import. A kerchief dipped inwater and bound tightly round it eased the smart and stanched the blood.Beyond this scratch I had no injuries, though from my own efforts I feltas stiff and sore all over as though I had been well cudgelled, and theslight wound got in Wells Cathedral had reopened and was bleeding. Witha little patience and cold water, however, I was able to dress it and totie myself up as well as any chirurgeon in the kingdom.
Having seen to my injuries I had now to attend to my appearance, forin truth I might have stood for one of those gory giants with whom theworthy Don Bellianis of Greece and other stout champions were wont tocontend. No woman or child but would have fled at the sight of me, forI was as red as the parish butcher when Martinmas is nigh. A good wash,however, in the brook soon removed those traces of war, and I wasable to get the marks off my breastplate and boots. In the case of myclothes, however, it was so hopeless to clean them that I gave it up indespair. My good old horse had been never so much as grazed by steel orbullet, so that with a little watering and tending he was soon as freshas ever, and we turned our backs on the streamlet a better-favoured pairthan we had approached it.
It was now going on to mid-day, and I began to feel very hungry, for Ihad tasted nothing since the evening before. Two or three houses stoodin a cluster upon the moor, but the blackened walls and scorched thatchshowed that it was hopeless to expect anything from them. Once or twiceI spied folk in the fields or on the roadway; but at sight of an armedhorseman they ran for their lives, diving into the brushwood like wildanimals. At one place, where a high oak tree marked the meeting of threeroads, two bodies dangling from one of the branches showed that thefears of the villagers were based upon experience. These poor men had inall likelihood been hanged because the amount of their little hoardingshad not come up to the expectations of their plunderers; or because,having given all to one band of robbers, they had nothing with whichto appease the next. At last, when I was fairly weary of my fruitlesssearch for food, I espied a windmill standing upon a green hill atthe other side of some fields. Judging from its appearance that it hadescaped the general pillage, I took the pathway which branched away toit from the high-road. (Note J, Appendix)
1. The incident is historically true, and may serve to show what sort ofmen they were who had learned their soldiering under Cromwell.