Our next stage was to Bridgewater, where we crossed the Parrot by a hideous iron bridge. This river is remarkable, because the tide, instead of rising gradually, flows in in a head,—a phænomenon of which no satisfactory explanation has yet been discovered. From hence we proceeded to Taunton through a tract of country which for its fertility and beauty is the boast of the island. "Ah, sir," said a countryman who was on the coach beside us, and heard us admiring it, "we have a saying about these western parts,
"Cornwall's as ugly as ugly can be;
Devonshire's better certainly;
But Somersetshire is the best of the three,
And Somersetshire is the country for me."
Taunton is a singularly pretty town, with a church of uncommon beauty. It was the great scene of cruelty after Monmouth's insurrection against his uncle James II., the greater number of the insurgents being of this county. One of the prisoners who was noted for being fleet of foot, was promised his life, if he would entertain Kirke the general with a display of his speed. He stripped himself naked; one end of a rope was fastened round his neck, the other round the neck of a horse, and they ran half a mile together, the horse going full speed. When the general had been sufficiently amused, and had gratified his curiosity, he sent the man to be hanged. Judge Jefferies, whose name is become proverbially infamous, went round to finish his work, and condemn all whom the soldiers had spared. The rebel peasantry were hanged up by scores, their quarters boiled in pitch, and set up in the streets and highways. James would not perhaps so easily have lost his crown, if he had not alienated the hearts of the people by these merciless executions. Kirke escaped all other earthly punishment than that of having his name handed down from father to son for everlasting execration, by abandoning the master whom he had served so wickedly, and joining William. The judge received a part of his reward in this world: after the flight of the king, he attempted to escape in sailor's clothes, and the mob discovered him. They were prevented from pulling him to pieces upon the spot, but before he was rescued they had so handled him that he just lived to be three days in dying. Popular fury has, like lightning, more frequently struck the innocent than the guilty; but when it does strike the guilty it comes like lightning, as God's own vengeance, and leaves behind a more holy and wholesome awe, than any legal execution, how solemn soever it be made.
After dinner we advanced a league and half to Wellington, where I saw a fine lad who had lost both legs by the frost in 1798,—a melancholy proof of the severity of the climate, even in the mildest part of England. Collumpton, a poorer and smaller town, is three leagues farther, and another stage of the same length brought me once more to Exeter.
*****
Whoever has once travelled the straight road from Exeter to Falmouth will have no inclination to travel it again. Plymouth lay about ten leagues out of the way, and it would always have been a subject of regret to me if I had not now lengthened my journey for the sake of seeing so famous a place. The stage was full: luckily a naval officer was enquiring for a place at the same time, so we took chaise together.