whig body, Monmouth was again well received. The mayor and aldermen in their robes welcomed him, preceded him in procession to the high cross, where they proclaimed him king. He took up his abode in the castle, encamped his army on the castle field, and crowds rushed to enlist in his service. His army already amounted to six thousand men, and might soon have been doubled or trebled; but his scanty supply of arms and equipments was already exhausted, he had no money, and men without weapons were useless. Numbers of them endeavoured to arm themselves mob fashion, with scythes, pitchforks, and other implements of husbandry and of mining. There was an active search for such weapons all round the neighbourhood; but what was an army of raw, undisciplined men, thus furnished, to do against regular forces with artillery and muskets? What was the motley cavalry, about a thousand in number, mounted on horses brought from the plough, or unbroken colts caught on the moors, to do against a disciplined force of horse mounted on steeds accustomed to start and keep order and the rush of military manœuvres? In fact, the expedition was equally hopeless from the lack of funds, of the support of those who could furnish them, and the unequal conditions on which these zealous but untrained and nearly unarmed people must engage with the royal troops.
Meantime, these troops were drawing from all quarters, and preparing to overwhelm the invaders. Lord Feveresham and Churchill, afterwards Marlborough, were ordered to march with strong bodies of troops to the west. Churchill was already arrived, and Feversham rapidly approaching. The militias of Sussex and Oxfordshire were drawing that way, followed by bodies of voluntary gownsmen from Oxford. To prevent any of the whig party affording Monmouth any aid, they and the nonconformists were closely watched, and many seized and imprisoned.
From Bridgewater Monmouth advanced to Glastonbury, and thence to Wells and Shepton Mallet. He appeared to have no precise object, but to seek reinforcements; from Shepton Mallet he directed his march on Bristol, which was only defended by the duke of Beaufort and the muster of his tenantry. Bristol once gained, would give them a strong position, and offered large supplies of money, stores, and arms. But Churchill harassed his rear on the march, and to reach the Gloucestershire side of the town, which was easiest of assault, it was necessary to march round by Keynsham Bridge, which was partly destroyed. Men were dispatched to repair it, and Monmouth following, on the 24th of June was at Ponsford, within five miles of the city. On reaching Keynsham Bridge, it was found to be replaced, but they were there encountered by a body of life guards under colonel Oglethorpe, and Bristol having received reinforcements, the attack on it was abandoned. It was then proposed to get across the Severn and march for Shropshire and Cheshire, where he had in his progress been enthusiastically received; but the plan was not deemed practicable, and he advanced to Bath, which was too strongly garrisoned to make any impression upon. On the 26th they halted at Philip's Norton.
Feversham was now at their heels, and attacked them, the charge being led by the duke of Grafton—the son of Charles and the duchess of Cleveland—who fought bravely, but was repulsed. Monmouth, however, took advantage of the night to steal away to Frome, which was well affected to his cause, but had been just visited and disarmed by the earl of Pembroke with the Wiltshire militia. The night march thither had been through torrents of rain and muddy roads; Frome could afford neither assistance nor protection; and, to add to his disappointment, here news reached him of the total failure of Argyll's expedition into Scotland, and that Feversham was now joined by his artillery and was in pursuit of him. Under these disastrous circumstances, and not a man of note, not a regiment of regulars or militia as had been so liberally promised him by Wildman and Danvers, having come over to him, Monmouth bitterly cursed his folly in having listened to them, and resolved to ride off with his chief adherents, and get back to the continent and his beloved lady Wentworth. But from this ignominous idea he was dissuaded by lord Grey, and they retreated again towards Bridgewater, where a report represented fresh assembling of armed peasantry. They reached that town on the 2nd of July, and, whilst throwing up trenches for defence, on the 5th Feversham arrived with about five thousand men, and pitched his tents on Sedgemoor, about three miles from the town. Feversham himself, with the cavalry at Weston Zoyland, and the earl of Pembroke with the Wiltshire militia, about fifteen hundred in number, camped at the village of Midleezoy. Monmouth and his officers ascended the tower of the church and beheld the disposition of the enemy. Sedgemoor had formerly been a vast marsh, where Alfred, in his time, had sought a retreat from the triumphant Danes, and it was now intersected by several deep ditches, as most fen lands are, behind which the royal army lay. Near Chedzoy lay some regiments of infantry which Monmouth had formerly commanded at Bothwell Bridge.
It was reported that the soldiers were left, by the reckless incapacity of the general, to drink cider and observe little watch; and Monmouth, who saw that they lay in a very unconnected condition, conceived that by a skilful night attack he could easily surprise them. The gormandising incapacity of Louis Duras, now lord Feversham, a foreigner who had been advanced by Charles II., was notorious, and the transcendant military talents of Churchill, who was in subordinate command, were yet little known. Preparations were therefore instantly made for the surprise. Scouts were sent out to reconnoitre the ground, who reported that two deep ditches full of mud and water lay betwixt them and the hostile camp, which would have to be passed. At eleven o'clock at night the troops, with "Soho" for their watch-word, marched out of Bridgewater in profound silence, taking a circuitous route, which would make the march about six miles. It was a moonlight night, but the moor lay enveloped in a thick fog, and about one in the morning the troops of Monmouth approached the royal camp. Their guides conducted the soldiers by a causeway over each of the two ditches, and Monmouth drew up his men for the attack, but by accident a pistol went off; the sentinels of the division of the army, the foot guards, which lay in front of them were alarmed, and, listening, became aware of the trampling of the rebels as they were forming in rank. They fired their carbines and flew to rouse the camp.
