“The unfortunate event of this enterprize, you are, I conclude, as well acquainted with as myself. I escaped, together with Mr Watson, from the battle at Sedgemore, in which action I received a slight wound. We rode near forty miles together on the Exeter road, and then abandoning our horses, scrambled as well as we could through the fields and bye-roads, till we arrived at a little wild hut on a common, where a poor old woman took all the care of us she could, and dressed my wound with salve, which quickly healed it.”
“Pray, sir, where was the wound?” says Partridge. The stranger satisfied him it was in his arm, and then continued his narrative. “Here, sir,” said he, “Mr Watson left me the next morning, in order, as he pretended, to get us some provision from the town of Collumpton; but—can I relate it, or can you believe it?—this Mr Watson, this friend, this base, barbarous, treacherous villain, betrayed me to a party of horse belonging to King James, and at his return delivered me into their hands.
“The soldiers, being six in number, had now seized me, and were conducting me to Taunton gaol; but neither my present situation, nor the apprehensions of what might happen to me, were half so irksome to my mind as the company of my false friend, who, having surrendered himself, was likewise considered as a prisoner, though he was better treated, as being to make his peace at my expense. He at first endeavoured to excuse his treachery; but when he received nothing but scorn and upbraiding from me, he soon changed his note, abused me as the most atrocious and malicious rebel, and laid all his own guilt to my charge, who, as he declared, had solicited, and even threatened him, to make him take up arms against his gracious as well as lawful sovereign.
“This false evidence (for in reality he had been much the forwarder of the two) stung me to the quick, and raised an indignation scarce conceivable by those who have not felt it. However, fortune at length took pity on me; for as we were got a little beyond Wellington, in a narrow lane, my guards received a false alarm, that near fifty of the enemy were at hand; upon which they shifted for themselves, and left me and my betrayer to do the same. That villain immediately ran from me, and I am glad he did, or I should have certainly endeavoured, though I had no arms, to have executed vengeance on his baseness.
“I was now once more at liberty; and immediately withdrawing from the highway into the fields, I travelled on, scarce knowing which way I went, and making it my chief care to avoid all public roads and all towns—nay, even the most homely houses; for I imagined every human creature whom I saw desirous of betraying me.
“At last, after rambling several days about the country, during which the fields afforded me the same bed and the same food which nature bestows on our savage brothers of the creation, I at length arrived at this place, where the solitude and wildness of the country invited me to fix my abode. The first person with whom I took up my habitation was the mother of this old woman, with whom I remained concealed till the news of the glorious revolution put an end to all my apprehensions of danger, and gave me an opportunity of once more visiting my own home, and of enquiring a little into my affairs, which I soon settled as agreeably to my brother as to myself; having resigned everything to him, for which he paid me the sum of a thousand pounds, and settled on me an annuity for life.
“His behaviour in this last instance, as in all others, was selfish and ungenerous. I could not look on him as my friend, nor indeed did he desire that I should; so I presently took my leave of him, as well as of my other acquaintance; and from that day to this, my history is little better than a blank.”
“And is it possible, sir,” said Jones, “that you can have resided here from that day to this?”—“O no, sir,” answered the gentleman; “I have been a great traveller, and there are few parts of Europe with which I am not acquainted.” “I have not, sir,” cried Jones, “the assurance to ask it of you now; indeed it would be cruel, after so much breath as you have already spent: but you will give me leave to wish for some further opportunity of hearing the excellent observations which a man of your sense and knowledge of the world must have made in so long a course of travels.”—“Indeed, young gentleman,” answered the stranger, “I will endeavour to satisfy your curiosity on this head likewise, as far as I am able.” Jones attempted fresh apologies, but was prevented; and while he and Partridge sat with greedy and impatient ears, the stranger proceeded as in the next chapter.
[*] The rest of this paragraph and the two following paragraphs
in the first edition were as follows:
“For my own part, I had been for some time very seriously affected
with the danger to which the Protestant religion was so visibly
exposed, that nothing but the immediate interposition of Providence
seemed capable of preserving it; for King James had indeed declared
war against the Protestant cause. He had brought known papists into
the army and attempted to bring them into the Church and into the
University. Popish priests swarmed through the nation, appeared
publicly in their habits, and boasted that they should shortly walk
in procession through the streets. Our own clergy were forbid to
preach against popery, and bishops were ordered to supend those who
did; and to do the business at once an illegal ecclesiastical
commission was erected, little inferior to an inquisition, of which,
probably, it was intended to be the ringleader. Thus, as our duty to
the king can never be called more than our second duty, he had
discharged us from this by making it incompatible with our
preserving the first, which is surely to heaven. Besides this, he
had dissolved his subjects from their allegiance by breaking his
Coronation Oath, to which their allegiance is annexed; for he had
imprisoned bishops because they would not give up their religion,
and turned out judges because they would not absolutely surrender
the law into his hands; nay, he seized this himself, and when he
claimed a dispensing power, he declared himself, in fact, as
absolute as any tyrant ever was or can be. I have recapitulated
these matters in full lest some of them should have been omitted in
history; and I think nothing less than such provocations as I have
here mentioned, nothing less than certain and imminent danger to
their religion and liberties, can justify or even mitigate the
dreadful sin of rebellion in any people.”
“I promise you, sir,” says Jones, “all these facts, and more, I have
read in history, but I will tell you a fact which is not yet
recorded and of which I suppose you are ignorant. There is actually
now a rebellion on foot in this kingdom in favour of the son of that
very King James, a professed papist, more bigoted, if possible, than
his father, and this carried on by Protestants against a king who
hath never in one single instance made the least invasion on our
liberties.”
“Prodigious indeed!” answered the stranger. “You tell me what would
be incredible of a nation which did not deserve the character that
Virgil gives of a woman, varium et mutabile semper. Surely this is
to be unworthy of the care which Providence seems to have taken of
us in the preservation of our religion against the powerful designs
and constant machinations of Popery, a preservation so strange and
unaccountable that I almost think we may appeal to it as to a
miracle for the proof of its holiness. Prodigious indeed! A
Protestant rebellion in favour of a popish prince! The folly of
mankind is as wonderful as their knavery—But to conclude my story:
I resolved to take arms in defence of my country, of my religion,
and my liberty, and Mr. Watson joined in the same resolution. We
soon provided ourselves with an necessaries and joined the Duke at
Bridgewater.”
“The unfortunate event of this enterprise you are perhaps better
acquainted with than myself. I escaped together with Mr. Watson from
the battle at Sedgemore,...