"What has happened?" I cried breathlessly, as Blackbird was carried along by the backward rush of the snorting horses, terrified at the flash and smell and noise of fire-arms, so that their riders could not control them even had they desired to lead them again against the foe.
Then one said one thing and one another; but all agreed that we were betrayed, that the cause was lost, that the enemy was securely intrenched behind a deep fosse, and that those of the horse who had crossed it would never come back alive.
At that methinks some spirit not mine own possessed me, for I fell into a kind of fury, and called out to those about me,—
"Men, if you be men and not cowards, follow me for the sake of England's honour, and strike one blow for freedom and the Duke, if we die for it!"
Then pulling up Blackbird, and making him wheel round sorely against his will, I seized an axe from the belt of one of the men near to me, and galloped furiously back toward the camp, where the battle was raging hotly.
I know not how many came with me; some twenty or thirty, I think. I trow I must surely have been mad at that moment; but I cared not what befell me, so that I struck but one blow for the cause I loved. And I think that the fury of my spirit entered into Blackbird, for he no longer feared to face the flash of fire nor the rattle of the muskets, and even the boom of the great field-pieces only made him gallop the more willingly. I think it was his instinct that led us to the place where the rhine could be crossed, or else he leaped clean over it. For the next minute I and some score of followers were charging through the enemy's camp, scattering right and left all who opposed us, and for the moment spreading confusion in our train.
"King Monmouth! King Monmouth!" I shouted at the top of my voice, as I waved my axe about my head, feeling that I could slay the veriest giant as though he had been a child; and indeed I did cut down more than one adversary who aimed a blow at me as I swept past.
"Down with all usurpers! Death to all traitors and Papists! King Monmouth! King Monmouth for England!"
Shouting these words, and charging through the camp like furies, I and my few followers dashed on madly, whilst behind us we heard the tide of battle raging, and knew not how the day would turn. Suddenly we were brought to a halt by a shock the like of which I had never felt before. We had flung ourselves in the darkness upon a compact mass of horsemen, drawn up in Weston Zoyland by the Earl of Feversham himself (as I heard later), and about to start forth to the relief of those in front.
"Down with the traitors! No quarter!" I heard shouted, as the awful shock brought Blackbird to a standstill, flinging him back on his haunches, and nearly knocking the breath out of my body.