In Taunton town : a story of the rebellion of James Duke of Monmouth in 1685

by Evelyn Everett-Green

I had an aunt in the town of Ilminster, one Betsy Marwell by name, my mother's sister, and a widow of some substance. She having heard of me and my malady, sent one day when I was about ten years old, and bid my mother let me pay a visit to her, for that she knew a great collector of herbs and simples who had had wonderful success in curing all manner of maladies that baffled the skill of the leeches; and she would keep me in her house and doctor me with his preparations, and send me home, she fondly hoped, in better and sounder health than I had when I came.

I remember well even now that first visit I ever paid away from my own home, and the excitements of dwelling in a town, and of sitting at table in a parlour with a carpet laid down in the middle, and eating with a fork instead of a wooden spoon as I had always done at home. I remember the grave face and the long beard of the man who came to look at me, and who bid me take many baths with sundry simples thrown in, and use certain ointments of his preparation, and who said that in time I should be sound and whole again.

I abode with my aunt two whole months, and it was during that time that the wonderful thing happened to me of which I am now about to write.

I had not been long at Ilminster before the whole town was thrown into joyful excitement by the news that the Duke of Monmouth was about to make a progress through the county, staying in the houses of such of the gentry as had accommodation sufficient to receive him and his suite, and allowing himself to be seen by the people, and approached by all who desired it. I soon heard that the house of Mr. Speke—White Lackington by name—was to be one of the places visited. I knew Mr. Speke by name right well—he and his son-in-law, Mr. Trenchard, being looked upon in our county as men of great virtue, and stanch to the Protestant cause, as in very truth they were, and suffered for it much; and I knew by this time that White Lackington House was but the distance of a mile or so from Ilminster, and I thought it would go hard but that I would make shift to see the Duke when he was there, if I were still with my aunt.

Indeed when the time drew near there was no difficulty about this, for all the world was agog about the Duke, and preparations were being made to admit all those who desired to see him to the park of White Lackington upon a certain day; whilst my aunt Betsy was as eager as any to see the hero, and before the day arrived she drew me to her side and spoke to me very earnestly.

First she examined my wounds, and shook her head over them. To be sure they were better than when I came to her, and some were fast disappearing; but she was not satisfied with the progress I had made, and she said to me with grave emphasis,—

"Dicon"—my name, I should say, was Richard, but I was never called anything but Dicon for many a long year of my life—"Dicon, to-morrow, if by any hap you can make shift to do so, get near to his Grace the Duke, and pray of him to lay his hand upon you and touch you for the King's Evil. If he be, as I hold him, the rightful son of our gracious King, his touch will be a cure for you such as none other can help you to. If you can only make shift yourself to touch him in the throng, it will perchance be enough. But let not this chance slip unused. Providence, it may be, hath sent it. Let the people but know him for the true heir to the throne, and not all the Dukes of York ever yet born shall keep him from his own when the right time comes!"

Whereby it may be seen that my aunt was a woman of spirit, as indeed she proved herself to be in days to come.

Upon the morrow we, in common with half the good folks of Ilminster, set forth for White Lackington to see the Duke at our ease. He had ridden into Ilminster the previous day, to attend divine service in the church; but although I had been well-nigh squeezed to death in the press, I had not succeeded in obtaining so much as a sight of him. But to-day there would be no such crowding and crushing. The wide park land gave space for us to move at ease, and all would be able to look upon the face of one whom they loved, perhaps with scarce sufficient cause.

How we huzzahed and shouted, and tossed our caps into the air, when the party from the great house moved across the sunny gardens and came toward us! For my part, I had a most excellent view, for I climbed into the fork of the huge chestnut tree which is one of the notable objects of interest at White Lackington, and from my perch up there I beheld the Duke, was able to scan his handsome features, to see the smiles that lighted his face, and almost to hear the gracious words he addressed to the people who crowded round him as he moved.