The Brown Mask

by Percy James Brebner

Feversham, with the King's forces, lay encamped on Sedgemoor, and with him were some of the very men who had fought with Monmouth at Bothwell Bridge. As Monmouth surveyed the position of the enemy from the top of Bridgwater Church there leapt into his heart a wild hope that these men might desert and fight by his side in the day of battle. A desperate courage came to him. Feversham was not a general to inspire trust in his men; it was said that the camp was full of drunkenness. With drunken soldiers to command even Churchill might find ill-armed but enthusiastic peasants too much for him. The time to strike had come. Heaven itself lent aid to the rebels, for the night brought a thick fog over Sedgemoor as Monmouth left Bridgwater for the last time. Not a drum beat to the attack, not a shot was fired; only the word "Soho" was whispered that men might recognise their friends in the darkness.

Two of the broad trenches which intersected the moor, and where the fog was thickest, were crossed in silence, but there was a third, protecting the camp, of which Monmouth knew nothing. The check brought confusion, and some man in his excitement fired a pistol. The battle had begun, and although the camp was taken by surprise, and drink made many heavy sleepers, the drums beat quickly to arms and the peasant warriors had little advantage. Grey's motley cavalry was scattered in a moment, and Lord Rosmore, who was amongst those who charged upon them, laughed aloud. This was a rabble, not an army.

But while darkness lasted the peasants did not lose heart. Monmouth was in the midst of them, fighting with them, pike in hand. He might know that the battle was lost, might long for some friendly enemy to deal him his death blow. His enterprise would fail, but his end would be glorious. Men fell on every side of him, while he remained untouched, and ever the light grew stronger in the east. The light meant defeat; Monmouth knew it. Death would not come to him, and life suddenly seemed precious. They still fought, these soldiers of his; the scythes were red with blood; the Mendip miners still faced the enemy, and were cut down as they stood; and Monmouth in his flight turned for a moment to look back, and shuddered. His courage was gone. Fear took hold of him, and, hiding the blue riband and his George, he galloped away with Grey and Buyse, first towards the Bristol Channel, and then, turning, made towards Hampshire. He remembered that Gilbert Crosby had promised to find him a hiding-place, and if he could reach Lenfield he might be safe. The pursuers followed hard after him, Lord Rosmore amongst them, and he, too, thought of Lenfield Manor and Gilbert Crosby.

No news reached the village on the Sunday or the Monday. Crosby waited anxiously. The last he had heard was that Feversham was on Sedgemoor and that a battle was imminent. He walked through the woods to the high road, and if he saw a peasant whose face was unfamiliar, waited for him lest he should prove a fugitive and bring news. On Tuesday Lenfield knew that Sedgemoor had been fought and lost, and that Monmouth was a fugitive. In which direction he had fled was not known, but Crosby hazarded a guess and rode some distance towards Cranbourne Chase.

"Be careful, Master Gilbert," Golding whispered. "They've arrested men on less suspicion than you're giving occasion for."

Crosby was quite aware of this, but he had made a promise. He had not been prepared to fight for a rebellious Monmouth, but he was prepared to risk much now that he was defeated and a fugitive. Still, he went carefully, not seeking danger, and soon had reason to be convinced that Monmouth had fled in the direction of Lenfield. Men of the Somerset Militia were beating the country, and Crosby barely escaped falling in with them.

When he returned to the Manor at nightfall Golding was full of news. Lord Grey of Wark had been taken that morning, but Monmouth was still at large.

"But he is surrounded, Master Gilbert; there is no escape for him."

"No one has been to the Manor?" Crosby asked.

"No; but there have been scouts in the neighbourhood all day. Luke the blacksmith saw them and told me. They don't expect Monmouth to come to Lenfield, do they, Master Gilbert?"